ToyHammer 40K
by TheTomFox
Summary: What would happen if my horde of Warhammer 40k models came to life! I mean, the largest military force in the entire universe can only cause so much trouble. Right? It could be worse: its not like undead robot zombies that won't flipping stay dead followed them. And remember, trust no-one. Please review, it means so much! More reviews will mean more chapters!
1. Arrival

Author's Note: Hey everybody. Sorry I haven't uploaded in a long time but I've had a lot on my plate. Back to school a week Monday so expect more regular updates then. I've seen a lot of these stories around and I really like them so I thought I'd give my own a shot. I thought up the character names myself (except for my friend's characters which have their real names) but if your story has the same character names I am sorry and it is completely coincidental. This will **NOT** be updated regularly. Anyway, ENJOY!

* * *

"Yo dude, you free? Yeah, my step dad is moaning at me to get out the house. You serious?! Alright, catch you later. Bye. Bye." I hung up on my friend. I'd been trying to organise a game of Warhammer 40k with him for a few weeks. We had unfinished business as in the last game, his Necron Doomsycthe exploded in the second from last turn and brought down my Valkyrie on its debut. I plugged my phone in to charge and headed up to bed; my parents were out of town so I could sleep when I wanted but I felt too tired. I strolled into my bedroom, closing the window since a cold and bitter wind froze me down to my bones.

"By the Emperor, It's cold!" exclaimed a voice to my right.

"Amen to that." I replied, thinking nothing of it. As I snuggled into the blankets, I swear I could hear the faint grumble of an engine.

It was at that point that I thought about the voice. I turned on my bedside lamp, only to be confronted by the barrel of a Baneblade super heavy tank. "What the fu-" The headboard exploded into splinters behind me as I shifted my head right. "Motherfucker!" I leapt out of my bed and into the sights of every weapon ever designed by the Imperium: from Basilisk artillery barrels and Hyrda flak guns down to lasguns and laspistols. I yelled the first thing that came to my head: "By the Emperor, what the HELL are you doing in my house!" That seemed to confuse them.

Whispers of "Is he imperial?" and "Does he support the Empire?" emanated from the crowd. A small jeep drove toward me from the crowd and 3 officers dismounted and the one with more medals than I'd ever seen spoke to me using a vox caster. "You there, Titan, be you a supporter of the most holy Emperor?"

"My name is Tom, not Titan, and duh." I gestured to the many 40k posters adorning my walls (I'm a bit nerdy like that), specifically the majority of them which happened to show the God Emperor. The 3 spoke quietly to one another before the one (presumably) in charge resumed our conversation.

"We see that you are just, _Titan_. My name is Governor Militant Anderson. This is Commissar Reginald and he is Captain Westfield." The 2 officers behind him saluted.

Towards my bedroom door, a shout went up of "Xenos! At our rear!" Thousands of guardsmen did an about-turn and leveled their guns at the door way. I picked up my crappy Nerf rifle to lend them a hand.

I muttered to myself "Don't be Orks. Please don't be Orks." And then gauss fire raked my carpet. 'Fuck!' Necrons are the second worst!

* * *

Another Guardsmen Squad went down to gauss fire from the tide of metallic warriors that were the Necrons. Doomscythes and Valkyries engaged in deadly dogfights throughout the skies. Wraiths were crushed under the tracks of Leman Russ Battle Tanks who fired barrages of shells at the opposition. Alas, for every Necron that was gunned down another five took its place. The only thing holding back the tide was 'The Emperor's Fist,' a plank I pulled free from my bed frame and that I was mercilessly crushing the Necrons with. As I looked on, my pride and joy, a Valkyrie I dubbed 'Victory' went down in a ball of flames. Like in every game I played against my friend's Necrons, it didn't go down to enemy fire, but a shot down Necron flyer crashing into it on its plummet to the ground. Funnily enough, the first time this happened we were actually working _together_ against his brother! 'Victory' had been brought down more times by friendly fire or pure bad luck than it had been brought down from the opposition's guns. I smile inwardly at the memory before Wraiths started clawing at my feet. I few quick blows quickly dispatched them. I had to focus, there was a battle going on in my bedroom after all…

* * *

 **Captain Westfield's POV**

I stood up from behind the low cover of the sandbags long enough to fire off a few rounds from my las-pistol before ducking behind them again. We were slowly pushing the Necrons back but we were losing many lives. Even as I was thinking this, another Chimera exploded into the air before landing upside down thanks to another swarm of scarabs. The Chimera I was in only moments ago! But before the scarabs could move onto the next tank, a Valkyrie with 'Victory' etched on the side crashed down into them. Praise the Emperor! In all my years serving as a guardsman, I have never known such an unlucky gunship as the 'Victory.' No matter how good the pilot was, it never landed unscratched. Still, like now, it had its uses. Suddenly, I saw a Necron warrior stand I on the sandbags I was taking cover behind and I saw his gun level at my head.

I don't know what made me do it. I don't know if it was some sixth sense or sheer dumb luck but I slid just a millimetre lower as something massive passed over my head from behind me by a tiny distance that I didn't even think was possible. The Necron warrior about to end my life wasn't so lucky. He shattered to almost nothing from the impact from the hulking mass of the 'Emperor's Fist.' The Titan had saved my life! But considering how he nearly took it at the same time I might have lashed out a tad too harshly.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU NEARLY TOOK MY BLOODY HEAD OFF!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. He replied in a calm, almost relaxed voice.

"You're welcome."

My cheeks reddened a few shades as I realised that I may have over-reacted. Oh well. There will be time for apologies later. At least, if we lived that long…

* * *

 **Tom's POV**

After saving the captain's life, I watched on as a commissar executed one of his own men to help his troops stand firm. In a game it was practical, but when witnessed in real life it was just barbaric. I definitely don't envy the guardsmen one bit. I don't feel any differently about my small core of Space Wolves – my original army. The blood thirsty Fenrisian wolves braved oncoming gauss fire to close the distance between them and their prey and the young, reckless Blood Claws charged with equal feral rage. Only the wise old Long Fangs held their ground and ruthlessly gunned down the incoming tide of Necrons. I have also two Imperial Knights in my army which I decided to paint in the colours of House Lannister and House Stark on a whim. My House Lannister knight was a bright shining figure of holy imperial firepower. My House Stark knight was having some power issues on the frontline as the head had been shot to the point where it (ironic) fell off. Slowly, we were pushing the Necrons back. As victory began tilting into our favour, something strange happened: all of the Necrons suddenly stopped what they were doing and de-activated. Some kind of standby mode? Confused, I looked over to the gathering of the commanders to see if they knew why this happened. Of course, I can't deny that I was pissed off to see them all bickering among each other already. All of them except Captain Westfield that is. He looked just as agitated as I was.

' _That's diplomacy for you'_ I thought.

* * *

They were all arguing amongst themselves, with the exception of Captain Westfield, that is. Governor-Militant Anderson and the Space Wolf captain looked ready to punch one another. The Commissar looked ready to execute half of the total Imperial Guard force, _for morale._ Captain Westfield stood off to the side, his head in his hands, frustrated at their petty arguments.

"Yo!" I yelled, grabbing everyone's attention. "Shut the fuck up!"

The room went silent in awe as I screamed at them. The Governor-Militant began to stammer something before I cut him off and yelled again.

"You're living in my fucking house so you're live by my fucking rules! Understand?"

Silence followed. The Imperial Guard looked extremely terrified. The Space Wolves stared in a respectfully silence: power was something they could respect. Though even if he was only a couple of inches tall, I still wouldn't take my chances against Logan Grimnar.

It wasn't long before the awe-ful silence was broken once more as a guardsmen yelled in alarm before screaming an inhuman scream as he died.

"For Chaos!" Someone yelled.

Shit. Looks like my small contingent of Word Bearers had been found. For the record, I am not a chaos player. I support the Imperium with everything I have. But, a long time ago, I read a 40k book called 'The First Heretic' and it followed the Word Bearers' fall from grace in the eyes of the Emperor and their journey to Chaos. I will admit, I was moved by their plight and started collecting a small Word Bearer force for a while, but I eventually came back to the eternal Emperor's light. I never got rid of my Word Bearers though. Now that fact was biting me in the ass. Literally. It took a few good swings before the little demon prince let go with his powerful jaw...

* * *

Read & Review! :-P

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Update (03/11/2015): Hi everyone! Bad news I'm afraid: My laptop is bust and I may have lost everything including the last chapter of GCA and it was big! So, sadly, I won't be writing for a while! I'm actually doing this from my school's computer! Sorry again but I'll make the next chapter **MASSIVE** up for it.

Update (22/09/2016): Hey guys, I know it has been so long but I finally have free time on my hands again and you'll be happy to know that I plan on updating my stories again! As you may have noticed, my grammar sucks so any help would be greatly appreciated! And I would just like to say thanks to cambalopales for the advice and thanks to eldarfan1 for the offer of help, it really means a lot! Updates soon!

Update (10/11/2016): Hey again, I'm re-writing this story to have longer chapters, so expect an increase in word count when this story eventually gets an update. Shouldn't be too long now. Sorry for the delay.


	2. New Home

The ruinous powers were a lot harder to kill than the small Necron force we had to face (which I didn't understand at the time as I had never collected any Necron models) but at least when they went down, they stayed down. The Word Bearer force was still only small, roughly the same size as the Necron force, but I found that I didn't want to hit them as I had done with the Necrons as I had spent time and money putting these guys together and doing some of the best painting I had ever done on a model. I just couldn't bring my self to do it. I saw one Word Bearer that I remember as my finest work standing amongst his Chaos brethren, firing his bolter with one hand and revving his chain axe in the other. Many guardsmen and a few Space Wolves went down because of him, but I couldn't bring myself to harm him. I winced as a las-shot ricocheted off his shoulder pads, scorching a thin line across its surface, marking its formerly pristine state. I knew the longer that I waited to end him, the more needless lives would be lost. With a heavy heart, I raised my weapon above my head and made ready to end his existence. Before I could bring it down on him, I looked at him one last time, and he looked at me. We locked eyes for several seconds, each of us knowing what must be done. He knew his fate and he knew he could not escape, and he accepted it honourably. If he hadn't descended into Chaos, he would have made a fine Space Marine in service of the Emperor. But before I could bring my weapon down to crush him, Basilisk artillery fired from across my room and fire rained down on the Chaos force, much of it concentrated on that Word Bearer. The Chaos marines that weren't killed were sent flying and landed heavily a great distance away from where they had left the ground. As the survivors stumbled back to their feet, a wing of my beloved Valkyries zoomed overhead, firing all of their weapons at the warriors of Chaos, ending their existence. Demons screeched as they were cast back into the Warp, a noise that even made me cover my ears. Not many Chaos soldiers were left, but they no longer had demon support (which, like the Necrons, I don't remember getting) and were quickly moped up by charging Space Wolves. My carpet was now completely ruined thanks to artillery, flamers and meltas, but I didn't care. I was still staring at the smoking crater where that Chaos marine had stood, remembering him in all of his finery. Such thoughts were heretical, I knew that, but still I could not tear my eyes away from the crater or my mind away from the marine.

* * *

"Cease fire!" The artillery commander yelled to his group of Basilisks. The mighty cannons stopped roaring and the shells stopped pelting the soft surface of this planet. Then, a squadron of Valkyries flew overhead at high speed and blasted away at the survivors with all of their weaponry. The guardsmen stared in awe at the devastation they had reaped on the Chaos forces, as did the giant. He simply stared at a crater, presumably in awe of the strength of the Imperium's military. Without a word, he walked out of landscape via an enormous entryway which resembled a door, but was manipulated manually by a 'handle.' Truly this was technology from the dark days of Terra. He returned a few moments later carrying a large structure in his hands with a large cable jumping from it. He put the structure down and connected the cable to a hole in the wall and pressed on the structure and it sprang to life. A deafening whine emitted from the machine and even the mighty Space Marines covered their ears in response. Something in the machine was spinning and the giant pushed the structure back and forth across the land, pausing occasionally to allow guardsmen or marines out of the way before continuing. Still he said no words. But wherever he pushed the structure, if there was ash or dust there, when he moved over it, it would vanish, presumably into the machine. There were still holes in the planet's surface, suggesting that this was not some form of terraformer, but the dirt from the battle had gone. After several minutes, the giant switched off the machine and the loud whining sound stopped, replaced with a low 'powering down' noise. The giant packed away the machine and carried it back out of the room. Then he returned and sat quietly on the structure that resembled a bunk, but on the scale so that the giant could sleep in it. No one said a word. All eyes were on him. He sat there, silent, for several moments, looking over at the entire Imperial force assembled before him. Then he uttered three words.

"Fuck my life..."

* * *

'Why to God did it have to be me that this happened to?' I thought. My room now looked like it had been burned in small patches with a lighter or something and I had to hide an entire army from my family and friends. This was not looking good. I had to organise them somehow if I wanted to hide them effectively. Somehow, I imagined Imperial Guard sharing a base with Space Wolves wouldn't be a very good idea, them sharing it with _drunk_ Space Wolves an even more terrible idea. So I would probably have to station themselves apart from one another to avoid tension and thus being exposed to the world. I had the perfect idea of where to make a base for the guardsmen, but the Space Wolves were a bit more tricky. I had to find somewhere that was safe for them to hide, but with nothing breakable within their reach, or any alcohol. I had to think for several moments for a spot to place them, so I went over some house rules while I thought about it.

"First off, no flamers, meltas or plasma guns, or anything that can burn stuff. They are an absolute last resort. No exceptions."

"But..." the Commissar began, clutching his plasma pistol affectionately.

"NO exceptions." I cut him off.

The commissar dropped his head in sadness and regiments of guardsmen cheered.

"Secondly. No executions _for morale._ "

Another cheers from the regiments.

"Third rule. Clean up your own mess. Any corpses, any waste, anything at all, I want cleaned up so my family don't find out about you."

Captain Westfield spoke up. "Family? There are others like you?"

"Yes. But they are bigger. And scarier. They won't look after you like I will."

One guardsman squeaked in fear and his face burned red in shame.

"Fourth rule. No alcohol unless I give it to you. I'm looking at you, Space Wolves."

"Very well." Logan Grimnar said, Bjorn the Fell-Handed at his side. "So long as you do not forget about us."

"You have yourself a deal." I replied. "Fifth rule. If anyone sees you, act like your a model. Just go rigid and don't move a muscle."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Now it was time to assign dwellings. I had a lot of terrain pieces for games of 40k under my bed, most of which were Imperial city buildings. I assigned the Imperial Guard there and they labelled their new home the 'underground city.' I gave them my permission to expand if they needed to, so long as all details were run past me first, so I could approve of their expansions. No approval, no building.

The Space Wolves were assigned to the attic in the house, so they were out of the way but somewhere were I could monitor and give them supplies. I was the only one who used the attic so I wasn't bothered about them being detected, so long as they agreed to be quiet when people other than me were in the house. They agreed to those terms on the condition that they had weekly alcohol rations. Shrugging, I agreed. Whatever kept them quiet, though I doubt it would.

* * *

After ferrying all of the Space Wolves up to the attic, I returned to my room to find that the guardsmen were hard at work settling in to their new home. They had attached cables to the Valkyries and were using them to move heavy containers to hard-to-reach places. As I walked in, observing them working efficiently with one another, the jeep that carried the guardsmen's leaders approached me and tooted its horn. Without dismounting, the governor called up to me, and I crouched down low to hear him better.

"Giant! The underground city will make a fine base of operations, but our aircraft are not suited to taking off from that position. May we build a land/launch bay up on that Cliffside?" he said, gesturing to my chest of drawers.

"Very well." I said. "But my name is Tom, and make sure you don't get caught flying."

"Yes, sir?" he replied, clearly not used to call others 'sir.' Without another word, he banged on the roof of the jeep and the driver did quick U-turn and drove off.

Crouching down on all fours and peering under my bed, I saw the underground city bustling with life. Guardsmen marched everywhere, or were setting up sleeping quarters in buildings or moving supplies. They had hung dim construction lights from buildings and the underside of my bed, giving the city a warm glow that was hard to spot from outside, making their base subtle. I saw a large area of room under my bed that had no buildings placed on top of it, that was now filled as it served as a parking bay for all of the Imperial Guard's tanks and artillery. I was genuinely impressed with the rate that the guardsmen had built up the area and the overall scale of it all. It looked like it had been there for years already.

I was observing the guards so intently that when my phone rang, it scared the life of me and I jumped up in surprise, nearly bashing my head on the bed. I thanked the Emperor that I didn't. I get the feeling that guardsmen wouldn't appreciate living in a city with frequent earthquakes. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I saw that one of my friends, Chad, was the one calling me. I answered the phone straight away.

"Yellow! How you doing, mat-"

"No time!" he yelled down the phone. "I've got a problem!"

"What's up, man?"

"This is going to sound crazy but... you know those Eldar you bought for me so I could start playing 40k?"

"Yeah..."

"They're kind of... alive..."

I looked at the guardsmen roaming around my room. "You know, it doesn't sound _that_ crazy..."


	3. Eldar

**Author's Note: For anyone following the story, I have re-written the first 2 chapters so please check out those 2 before you read this one. Otherwise, enjoy!**

* * *

Looks like I wasn't the only one with this problem then. My best mate, Chad, seemed to be having the same problems as me, only his were sneaky space elves. Me and a few friends had recently bought him a starter set and a few boxes, but I had bought his first box. A box of guardians. I had been looking for jetbikes, but they were out of stock at the time. So I bought him the box of Guardians while I bought the recently released Renegade Knight boxed set. I didn't model one of the knights as an Imperial and the other as Chaos though. I modelled both as loyal to the Emperor, hence my two House Lannister knights. I have no idea if Chad had expanded his Eldar collection since we bought the starter set and others, but I would have to find out. I was jogging over to his house now, eager to assess the situation there. I was loathe to leave my house unsupervised with two armies of the future currently occupying it, but still, it had to be done. I agreed to take on Valkyrie with me along with a squad of Cadians embarked within, and brought an old remote-controlled car controller with me, so it could pass as a drone if anyone saw it. It seemed to work. The Valkyrie accompanying me was the second Valkyrie I had ever built, 'Warrior' I called it. The zoomed ahead on me slightly, adjusting constantly to match my speed. I could see the pilots inside focusing on flying, and the squad of shocktroopers peering out of the access ports to see the world around them. I don't think they realised that they were on what would one day be called the holy planet of Terra.

* * *

It wasn't long before we arrived at Chad's front door. Warrior went into hover mode and floated in place until Chad opened the door. He was red in the face and visibly sweating. Before I could say 'hi' the Valkyrie's thrusters increased their power and it zoomed into the house, doing a quick scan of the surroundings. Chad was shocked by the sudden intrusion of the flier, but let me in anyway and led me straight to his room where the Eldar were hard at work building grand yet graceful structures with their Bonesingers. Already, his room looked like a metropolis of pure white buildings with elegant curves. His Wave Serpents hovered around, helping to transport Eldar from place to place and squads of Guardians strode across the cityscape. Jetbikes whirled as they raced around the room and exploring the area. Whether they were too busy to notice or simply didn't care, it seemed that not a single Eldar turned and looked at us as we entered. We crossed the room, stepping carefully around the Eldar to Chad's computer, where a group of Eldar were sat in a circle, meditating. As we approached, the one facing directly away from us rose from her seat and walked over to the edge of the desk to meet us. She walked with such elegance and grace that she surely made other Eldar jealous.

"Greetings, Mon-keigh." she said.

To my surprise, Chad gave a slight bow to the Farseer, and seemed not to care that I saw him do as much.

"Greetings, Farseer Tanhith." he said.

"Who is the new Mon-Keigh?" she asked, gesturing at me.

"This is Tom," he said, "He is a friend."

She turned up her nose in distaste and said "Perhaps you Mon-Keigh are not as barbaric as we first thought."

She whirled on her heel and strode away back to the council. Great, just what we need: a snooty Farseer. As I had this thought, she stopped mid-step and turned to glare at me. Even better, a mind-reading Farseer.

"Yes, I am, Mon-Keigh." she said, still glaring.

What happened next happened in an instant. First, Warrior came hurtling into the roam at max speed, then the Eldar Farseer gasped, then thousands of Shurikens went flying towards the Valkyrie. Fortunately, Warrior was going at an insane speed and in their haste, the Eldar didn't account for the speed it was going, and almost all shots only hit the air where it had been moments before. But as I watched on, Warrior primed its weapons and the two doors on the flanks of the gunship slid open and inside, the occupants manning the sponson heavy bolters, Vietnam style. Thinking on my feet, I grabbed Chad's empty backpack and threw it at the gunship. The Valkyrie was going to fast to pull up, out of the way, and flew straight into the bag, coming to an abrupt stop inside. I seized the bag mid-air and zipped it up, trapping my guardsmen inside. But still, the Eldar were committed to killing the intruders and pelted the bag with shurikens so I placed my body between them and the bag and I felt an intense prickling sensation all over my back as it was pelted with fire from Eldar weaponry. Chad didn't know what to do and stood dumbfounded, absorbing in the situation. When he eventually came to his senses and yelled for the Eldar to cease fire, they all ignored him and continued to shoot at my back. To my shame, I thought about begging the Farseer to make it stop. Only when the Farseer called for them to hold their fire did the prickling sensation stop. Once again, she must have read my mind.

"You are welcome, Mon-Keigh. Now I think it best you and you friends leave." she said to me.

I looked at Chad and nodded my head in the direction of the bag and he told me he didn't mind as long as I brought it back. I thanked him and ran for the door, then ran all the way home. As I left Chad's house though, I _felt_ rather than _heard_ the Farseer's voice as she said "We'll meet again."

In my head, I cursed myself. Why did I think bringing guardsmen along would be such a good idea?

* * *

When I got home, I found the porch unlocked and the hallway light on. Fearing the worst, I dropped the bag on the kitchen counter and dashed into the living room where I found my mom lying on the sofa, with a thick, fluffy blanket wrapped around her. As usual, she was cold. She was always like this. Me and my step-dad often took the mick, but she knew it was all good fun and we didn't mean anything by it. She seemed to be asleep, so I tiptoed back out of the room, took off my shoes and tiptoed up the stairs to my room. As I opened up the door to my room, I thought that I had been dreaming. My room was deadly silent and nothing moved. Had I just dreamed that my models had come to life?

It wasn't long before someone breathed out in relief and sent a short vox signal. They knew it was just me. The Governor strode along my chest of drawers to me, passed the neat lines of Valkyries that were now ready to launch, and yelled up to me.

Gian- I mean, Tom! We believe there is another like you in the vicinity. We've been as quiet as possible since they entered and whenever we hear a sound nearby, we go rigid, just as you requested."

"Thank you Governor. How did you know though?"

"We... erm... may have left this area... We sent some scouts out to explore the area and it wasn't very long before they encountered a series of cliffs which resemble steps, but on a massive scale. My scouts were just getting in sniping position from there when one of those manual doors you have opened. They froze in position and stayed close to the ground and observed as another giant entered, this one slightly bigger than you and with longer hair. Presumably female. We don't know if she was hostile, but we did not engage. We immediately recalled all aircraft to their landing bays and sent a vox signal up to the Space Wolves to make sure they knew to be quiet."

"Very well, Governor Anderson. I appreciate you're honesty. Provided you aren't caught, I have no problem with you exploring. And I think you have an efficient system if unknown's enter the house. You should permanently implement that." I replied, calmly.

"Thank you. We shall." he replied.

"And thank you for not shooting her. That's my mom."

"Ah... We'll make a note of that."

As we had this conversation, I pulled Warrior out of the backpack and placed in neatly in the empty landing bay and I counted the troops that disembarked grudgingly from the aircraft, making sure none were still in the bag. Satisfied that they were all out, I put the bag to one side to remind me to take it to Chad's at some point. After sorting a few small things out in my room, I went back downstairs to make myself a drink and found my mom awake, cooking dinner.

"Hey ma." I said, "Cuppa?"

"Yes please"

"Ok. What's for tea?"

"Pie and mash."

"Awesome. Thanks mom."

This was a normal conversation between us that we had everyday. I would always make her a cup of tea and help out while she cooked dinner, unless I was over at my girlfriend's place. Admittedly, being 17 years old, I should really be making my own dinner, but then what else would my mom do? I'm just sharing out the jobs so we all do equal amounts, much to the annoyance of my mom. After making a cup of tea for me and my mom and being told there was nothing else I could do to help, I took my cup of tea and went up to my room. The guardsmen were going to love my mug. Its basically a plain mug, but with the symbol of the Inquisition on the side. Leaving my mug on my bedside table on an Imperial Guard coaster, I went into the attic to check up on the Space Wolves. Already there were fights breaking out and drunk marines stumbling everywhere. Overall, I'd say the Space Wolves were doing fairly well for themselves. I guessed that they must have hip-flasks or something.

* * *

After dinner, I returned to my room and started playing GTA V for a bit, and quite a few guardsmen took up seats and watched me play. Admittedly, I'm no pro gamer, but I'm alright. I got quite a few cheers when did well, which wasn't as often as I'd have liked if I'm honest. There were a few groans when I had to pause to answer a call from one of my friends. It was another one of my 40k mates: Tim.

"Dude! You'll never guess what?!" he screamed down the phone.

"You've Imperial Fists have come to life?" I stated back to him, flatly.

"No, my- wait. Yeah! How did you know?"

"Call it a lucky guess."


	4. Betrayal

Sunday passed without much trouble. Ryan was constantly calling me and yelling how awesome it was, the guardsmen in my room had a few close calls when my step-dad barged his way into my room, as normal, and I managed to smuggle some of my Sunday lunch up along with a glass of water for them to fill their canteens in. That moment when my step-dad burst into my room was slightly amusing though. All of my guardsmen had been stood on my bedroom floor, all of them organised into neat blocks and standing to attention. The instant he entered, they all froze perfectly in place. I could tell my stepdad wanted to yell at me for not cleaning my room, but the sheer number of 'models' all stood in perfectly neat ranks seemed to captivate him. There were so many 'placed' so meticulously that he let it slide, seeing as I had taken so long to set them all out like that. Yeah, sure. I did this. Totally. But other than that, nothing special really happened. It was tomorrow I was dreading. I am in 6th Form in a school called Arrow Vale. Work is hard and I don't get much time to myself, even when I have no lessons. That's when I do homework or catch up on coursework. Now I had to babysit a squad of Grey Hunters from the Space Wolves and Governor Anderson, Commissar Reginald and Captain Westfield of the Imperial Guard, all of whom were adamant that they were coming, while studying in school. Well, at least the day would be interesting...

* * *

 **7:00am**

My alarm on my phone went off. As usual, I got up and snuck downstairs and as usual, I made myself some breakfast while checking my phone to see what happened last night while I slept. My mom and younger sister were still asleep and won't get up for another half an hour. My step-dad got up a lot earlier and left before I got up. I was absent-mindedly scrolling through my notifications when I opened the cupboard door and saw a squad of 4 Cadian snipers skulking around the cereals. It was safe to say that I jumped out of my skin in surprise.

"What in bloody hell are you doing in there?!" I whispered harshly.

"Sorry, sir." The sergeant said back. "We were scouting around earlier when we saw the other male giant of this household sitting down and eating something drowned in milk. We believe it originated from one of these great structures. The wall was open so we moved stealthily inside, but the giant stood up and closed the wall, trapping us inside."

"Right. Those are called cereals. This is the cereal cupboard. We store cereal in here in these boxes."

"Ser- re- als?"

"Yes. Cereals."

"And these 'cereals' are food?"

"Correct."

"May we take a sample?"

I sigh before making myself some cereal and carrying the scouts to the table. I sat down to eat my breakfast but first, I scooped up some milk and cereal in my spoon and held it out for the snipers. They gathered round it, taking in the texture and look of the oversized food, before each taking a tentative mouthful.

"By the Emperor!" one of them said "This tastes amazing!"

"I prefer the large sample of food he brought yesterday" said another.

"Now if you'll excuse me," I said, "I'd like to eat my breakfast and get ready for school."

* * *

 **7:30am**

I had eaten the rest of my breakfast in peace, with the exception of the occasional begging for more from a couple of the snipers. After that, I had made two cups of tea, one for me before I leave, the other for my mom when she wakes up. Leaving them both to cool, I went upstairs and brushed my teeth. After that, I gathered my trousers and a shirt and tie and got changed in the bathroom. Now that I had guests in my room, I couldn't exactly get changed in there. Being in 6th Form, we didn't have a uniform anymore, but we still had to wear smart business wear such as shirts and ties and no jeans. When I emerged from the bathroom several minutes later, my mom also left her room having just woken up.

"Morning, mom." I whispered across the landing.

"Morning, love." she whispered back, before waking my sister up.

My sister was 2 years younger than me and was in year 10 at the same school as me, Arrow Vale. She would go straight to school and she didn't really care about being late, but I would leave early to walk my girlfriend to school, and I couldn't be late for that. I'd hate to make her late.

Now I was packing my school bags for the day ahead. I checked my timetable and packed what I needed for the subjects I had today. My first 2 lessons were psychology, so I packed my notebook and both of the psychology textbooks. The next 3 lessons after that I was free, so I'm probably piss about with my friends in the common room for those periods. Last lesson I had business, but that was almost entirely on the computer, so I didn't need to pack anything for that. And of course I gently placed the little people that were taking over my life into the bag. The Grey Hunters grumbled and muttered something about 'respect' when I picked them up and the Governor refused to be 'man-handled.' I'm pretty sure the Commissar wanted to execute me when it was his turn, probably 'for morale.' Yeah, right. The only one who accepted being picked up was Captain Westfield. He understood it was easier that way. Hell, he even thanked me for it. I really like him.

Going back downstairs carrying my shoulder bag and my small backpack, I set them down in the kitchen and said 'good morning' to my sister. I packed the lunch that I had made last evening into my bag and drank my tea while scrolling through Facebook on my phone. I shared the occasional cute or funny video before I finished my tea and then I put my phone in my pocket, and washed up my mug. I checked the time and saw that it was 7:50am, so I picked up my coat and keys from the cupboard under the stairs and said goodbye before picking up my bags and leaving the house. I put my earphones in and blasted some tunes through my phone, nodding along in tune. I bet I looked a bit like an idiot, but I wasn't the type to care. It took me 10 minutes to walk over to my girlfriend's place, and she was just leaving as I walked up.

"Morning babe!" I called to her.

"Morning baby." she called back.

I walked up to her and gave her a kiss, and then we walked to school holding hands. Now don't judge, because I know when you're still in school these things can be weird, but my girlfriend, Courtney, was in year 11, the year below me. I know that to some it might be weird but I love her and she loves me.

Anyway, enough of defending my dignity. We walked to school holding hands and chatting, and when we arrived at school, we went straight to the radio-room, where we always hung out with friends until the bell went for the start of school. When the bell went, I gave her another kiss and we went to our forms, which we were forced to sit in until first lesson came.

* * *

 **8:30am**

I was sat in form, bored out of my skull and absent mindedly doodling in my notepad when I started hearing things. Not in an insane way, but in a 'I'm-hearing-things-that-no-one-else-can-hear-but-are-definitely-here' kinda way. I checked my bag and saw my notebook being read by Commissar Reginald, a squad of Grey Hunters snoozing, and Captain Westfield intently studying the contents of my lunchbox. But there was something missing from my bag... or _someone_...

Then it hit me. Governor Anderson! I frantically searched my other bag, hoping to find him safe, but I couldn't find him anywhere. I hope to the Emperor that he didn't fall out of the bag on the way here. Then I heard the voice.

"Wow... so many giants... all so bored..."

I looked up and there he was, sat on the edge of my desk, looked at all the kids in the class. Fortunately, I sit at the back as I prefer to stay out of the way of people. Out of sight, out of mind. In truth, I hate people. But before anyone could turn around and spot the tiny person sat at the edge of my desk, I seized him and pulled him close to me so I could whisper something to him that (hopefully) no-one would overhear.

"Governor, what do you think you're doing?!" I whispered sharply.

"Well," he whispered back, "I'm trying to observe this foreign landscape, a goal I cannot achieve from within there." He gestured to the bag in which the others were.

"Later!" I whispered, and placed him back in the bag.

"Thomas!" yelled the teacher from across the room.

She called me by my formal name. Shit. I'm in trouble.

"Perhaps you have something you wish to share with the class?" she said, staring me down.

"No, miss. Sorry, miss." I said, eyes cast down, cheeks bright red.

"Very well..." she said.

That was too close.

* * *

 **10:40am**

My double lesson of psychology passed fairly quickly, being my favourite subject. It was now break, which lasted 15 minutes, giving us 5 minutes to get to lesson 3 which started at 11 o'clock. As usual, I didn't hang out in the 6th Form common room, but I went outside to hang out with Courtney and her friends. It might be a bit sad (this, coming from the guy obsessed with 40k) but I enjoyed spending time with her. As usual, we stood outside just chatting and messing around with her friends. The guys in my backpack refused to keep quiet though, so I had to constantly pretend to readjust my bag while knocking them around a bit as a warning. Honestly, I hadn't expected tiny warriors from a possible future to be so mischievous.

"What's up babe?" my girlfriend asked at one point.

"Nothing, darlin'" I said, readjusting my bag and giving her a cheeky wink.

The rest of break passed with little incident, and when the bell went for third lesson, I gave my girlfriend a kiss and she went off to her lesson while I went to the 6th Form area to spend the next three lessons until lunch.

* * *

 **3:00pm**

The rest of the day went pretty quick if I'm honest. My three free lessons was basically just me sat around, bored on my laptop, chatting quietly to the little people in my bag and letting them out to explore around the desk as there weren't many people in the room and I was at the back, again, out of sight and out of mind. Lunch was at 1:30 and lasted 40 minutes and it was the same thing as break, but longer and with food. My last lesson was Business studies, and again, I just sat there bored, typing away on a laptop while the figures watched. I think they were expecting more to this day as they seemed as bored as I was by the end of it. But at 3 o'clock, that changed dramatically.

"Sir. Sir!" I heard someone yell from my backpack, his size meaning that his voice wasn't very loud. I was just outside the school gates now, just starting to walk home for the day.

"What?" I asked quietly.

"We need to talk, sir. It's urgent."

I dashed over to the one side, taking a short cut home through the wooded area nearby. As I walked through here and made sure I was alone, I shrugged the bag off my back and opened it, speaking to the contents.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Sir." It was Captain Westfield who answered. "We've received reports from the Underground city. The Space Wolves have left their designated area. They marched openly in full force through our space. They engaged our border troops at your doorway and marched through your room. They left through the window. We took down some of them and only took a few casualties in return, but they have left your home. Reports say they were acting odd a few hours prior to this unfolding, and they appeared to be under some kind of trance judging by their movement."

"Shit!" I yelled. "They've escaped?!" I cut a sharp look to the Grey Hunters in my bag.

"Forgive us." The sergeant said, "We have had no part in this. We've been trying to hail them on all vox frequencies but they're not answering."

"Ok, I believe you, but I'm going to have to have you put under guard by Imperial Guard forces until this situation is resolved." I replied.

"I understand, mi'lord..."

* * *

 **3:10pm**

I rushed home and 10 minutes later, I arrived. The front door was still locked so nobody was home. That was good news. Usually my mom had a day off on Monday and Friday, but for now it looked like she was out. I ran into the kitchen, dropped one of my bags and took the one containing the men up to my room with me. When I burst into my room, it was havoc. Valkyries were all over the place, some on the ground in various states of repair, others flying patrols or landing back at the launch bays. Squads or guardsmen were patrolling, searching for survivors and caring for the wounded. Several tanks had formed blockades at several chokepoints, in case of a second attack. Everyone was working. I dropped the Governor, Commissar, and Captain off along with the Grey Hunters, who were taken away at gunpoint by several guardsmen who kept a respectful and weary distance. Meanwhile, I fetched a ladder and looked up into the attic.

It was completely abandoned. Nothing moved. It was as if nothing had ever been here. Dust coated every surface, as it had done before all of this had happened. I pulled myself up and looked around at where the Space Wolves' buildings had been, but there was nothing. I don't know what made me look down, but I did, and I saw a strange, spikey curve of where the dust had been brushed away. Stepping back, I saw that the curve was in fact a large circle. And to my shock, it wasn't randomly spikey. There were only a few spikes on the circle. 8 of them in total. I was shocked at what I was seeing. Here, before me, brushed into shape from dust, was the 8-pointed star of Chaos.

* * *

 **Captain Westfield's POV**

It was a disaster. The giant, Tom, was currently in the former holdings of the Space Wolves on the upper level, but down here, it was hell. Cadians, young and old, lay groaning in pain as a result of the attack by the Space marines. What could have drove the mighty Astartes to such madness. Many Space Wolves' corpses littered the ground along with the guardsmen, but there were no Space Wolf casualties. They either lived or died, they gave no chance of being taken prisoner and questioned. The only Space Wolves alive that could be found were the Grey Hunters that accompanied us on our journey today. They swore they had no part in this and were as confused as we were, but they allowed themselves to be taken under guard all the same. It could be a deception, but I trusted them. I'm sure they would be questioned later. For now, we had other problems. None of the structures in the underground city had been damaged, but only 2 Valkyries were active and patrolling at this time. Most had crashed and were being repaired on site by Tech-priests, and others had managed to limp back to the landing bays to be repairs from there. We had taken several casualties and we would have to ask Tom if he knew of anyway to get reinforcements soon. Most of our tanks were unscathed, but Tech-priests still gave them a quick check and praised the Machine-spirit that they were undamaged. The Governor-Militant and the Commissar were down on the ground, assessing the situation, whereas I was up by the launch bays, taking in the view from above. It looked bad. To my right was a damaged Valkyrie that wasn't being repaired as of yet, but seemed to be in bad shape. Soot covered the head of the aircraft and the canopy of the cockpit was smashed, shards of shattered glass covering the inside. Some of the glass had a fine layer of blood. Using my hand, I wiped away some soot and found the craft had taken down 3 enemy aircraft prior to this battle. Not a bad score. Hearing a moan of pain, I crossed to the other side where I saw a man, presumably the pilot, sitting with his back against the aircraft, holding his stomach with his right hand, his left hand held limp at his side. A steady stream of blood seeped between his fingers. Kneeling down low to him, I took in the sight of him. It was clear he'd pulled something large out of his stomach which had caused the blood flow, and he had a thin cut along his left cheek where flying glass had sliced him. Again, he groaned in pain.

"Pilot?" I asked. He seemed to notice me for the first time now.

"Captain?" he asked back. I nodded. "Captain. Pilot Tathers ***cough*** reporting in." He attempted a smile.

"Pilot. What happened?"

He coughed more before replying.

"0200 hours. The Space Wolves opened the hatch to their level. 0210, heavily armed Space Wolves aircraft fly into neutral space before altering course to our territory. We scramble Valkyries on interception course. 0212, our first Valkyrie is shot down. We launch all aircraft and prepare ground defenses at the border of our territory. 12 minutes later, Spaces Wolf forces push through our lines and advance quickly to the window before fleeing outside. Most of the Space Wolf aircraft had been shot down in the dog-fights in the sky. I was taking down the second from last one when his wingman shot us from above. The shots and shattered glass killed my gunnery sergeant. I survived but now the first one was on me again. He shot out my right-wing engine before I could disengage. I managed to get it back here before they could finish me off."

I took in all the information from his story as he told it. Something was definitely off.

"Tathers, was it?" I asked. "You've shown great courage today, and I am sorry from the lost of your gunnery officer. But listen, you are going to pull through. I promise, I won't let you die here."

The wounded pilot smiled, blood coating his teeth.

"Thank you, captain. You're... a good man." he said, before slumping as he suddenly lost consciousness.

I stood and noticed a squad of guardsmen moving between the bays, looking for Space Wolf remnants. I saw a medic amongst the squad.

"Medic!" I yelled and they all turned to face me. Recognising me immediately, he rushed over to see why I needed him. Seeing the man on the floor, he dropped hastily to one knee and did what he could for the wounded pilot. Still, the pilot continued his smile.


	5. Operation Intrepid Explorer

The rest of my week went to shit pretty badly. I had no idea how Chaos had corrupted my beloved Space Wolves or where they had gone. To make matters worse, my girlfriend broke up with me and that hit me pretty hard, but I couldn't exactly cry in front of potentially a thousand guardsmen. So I resigned my sorrows in the best way I knew how to: I wrote a new entry in my Death Note and blasted a bunch of depressing Hollywood Undead songs while practically screaming the lyrics. You'd be surprised at how A-level exams and managing an entire guardsmen force can be at times. I either have no time to revise or no time to manage the running of their base of operations. And it wasn't like I could actually tell anyone about these things. They'd think I'm bonkers, for one reason. The only people I could talk to about this was my friends Chad and Ryan who were dealing with similar issues. The only problem was, we'd grown distant since they moved to college while I stayed on in Sixth Form. And now that they both had jobs, I couldn't speak to them or hang out with them as often as I'd have liked, now more than ever. I guess, in a way, its a life lesson. You can always tell your true friends by those that stick by you through thick and thin, no matter what. They are always there for you, even when you don't think you need them. That's the reason me and my girlfriend broke up. I was always there for her and I went to hell and back to make her happy and know she was loved. But the one time I need her, she wasn't there. I've pretty much given up on girls now, at this point. I need to focus on my guardsmen and exams, not wasting my time with relationships that I know will never work but I pray that they do. But enough wallowing in my own anger or grief. Time for more mayhem thanks to my tiny guests.

* * *

"Sir? Sir!" The scout leader yelled up to me.

"Hm? Yes?" I replied. "Do you have any additional intel to report?"

"Negative, sir. But I would like to request that we send out several Valkyries on scouting missions. An eye in the sky could be helpful at locating them."

"No. If you are spotted, things will go from bad to worse very quickly."

"But sir, we have observed your generation of people utilising remote-controlled aircraft on approximately the same scale as our own. This would be the perfect cover and no one would suspect anything."

"True... but I would have to remain in close proximity and only one fly mission would be available at one time. Maybe when the weather warms up a bit in a week or two?"

"Understood sir. I understand that this planet is approaching the local season of Spring?"

"Correct."

As I gave him this answer, he stiffly saluted and walked away, back to his squad, before they used a makeshift set of stairways leading from my chest of drawers down to my old toy box (now filled with DVDs, CDs and video games) before going down another set of stairs leading to my floor.

On the other side of my room, I heard the quiet yell of "Xeno!" and the soft patter of las-fire as a squadron of veterans chased and shot at a small spider, flushing it out of it's hiding spot beneath my bed. This was probably the tenth time they'd done this now. It was amusing at first, but it lost its novelty fairly quickly. For now, I ignored it, and lay on my bed, working on a past paper to help me to revise for my math exams. I'd lost my calculator a long time ago, and I couldn't be arsed to use my phone, so I had the tech-priests calculate the numbers for me, making most of the papers easier. Certainly not easy, but easier.

* * *

Captain Westfield strolled between the beds of the field hospital that had been set up in the Underground City. Most of the wounded soldiers had recovered from the attack from the Traitor Space Wolves and had returned to active duty, but several were still confined to the beds here. One of those still in care was the man he came to see. Not finding him, he asked a Sister of the order for his location, she immediately pointed in his direction. Then he found the man he was looking for. He sat on a chair next to the bed, and watched the pilot sleep.

* * *

 **Several days later...**

"Echo team, this is Foxtrot. We are advancing through the jungle. No hostile contacts as of yet."

"Copy that Foxtrot, we're sending the sentinels behind you now. Remember, the Titan known as Tom does not know about this operation. We cannot be caught down here. He told us we were not permitted beyond the border of his room, so this garden is definitely off limits. For this reason, we have limited fire support. We have approximately 5 Earth hours before he arrives back from his place of education. He have to explore and extract before then."

"Solid copy, Echo. We're still advancing. Still no hostile contacts."

 ***gunfire***

"ECHO TEAM! THIS IS DELTA TEAM! WE'VE BEEN AMBUSHED BY SOME FORM OF INSECTOID XENOS! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! WE'RE DYING OUT H- ARGH!"

"ECHO! THIS IS OSCAR MIKE SENTINELS! WE'RE BEING AMBUSHED!"

Echo was getting reports from several units of xenos ambushing them and killing them in droves. Echo team leader requested a live feed from the combat cameras on the Sentinels, then sent the feed to the Tech priests back in the Underground City for analysis. Using the best available research term, the Tech priests used the mysterious archive know as 'Google' to discover the origins of this species of Xenos. The tech-priests reported that they were known as grasshoppers or crickets. Before Echo Team could inform all units of this xenos, a whisper came through the radio.

"Echo. This is Foxtrot 5. My whole team is down. I've got Foxtrot 3 with me but he's badly wounded. These... _things..._ they're everywhere. Requesting a fire mission. Over?"

"Foxtrot, this is Echo. We will grant you any support we can spare. What is your fire mission?"

"Copy that Echo. Requesting Earthshaker heavy bombardment approximately 30 metres north of my position, 14 metres west. How copy?"

"Solid copy, Foxtrot. Punching in the order now. Watch yourselves. Its coming in, danger close."

As Echo said this, several Earthshaker artillery platforms that had been set up on the concrete of the garden readjusted to aim for the given co-ordinates, and in a staggered pattern, they opened fire. Dirt was blown everywhere as shells slammed into the ground all around the remainder of Foxtrot team, sending gore and dismembered xenos flying into the air. The bombardment continued for approximately 5 minutes, scattering the xenos that were not killed and pushing them back into the depths of the jungle. Only 2 Sentinels survived the ambush and one of those had begun to smoke badly with sparks flying from loose connections. That particular Sentinel was sent back to the temporary base on 'The Great Concrete Plains' for repairs by the Tech-priest on the ground for this operation. The other was sent to the head of the advance, cautious now after the ambush. The surviving 2 members of Foxtrot team had survived the heavy Earthshaker bombardment and now pulled back to the base with the critically damaged Sentinel. The lost of most of the Sentinels and several teams meant little though. The guardsmen had deployed a full company, along with a single squad of Catachan guardsmen, who were used to such hostile terrain. One squadron of Valkyries were prepped and ready back at the main base in the bedroom, but the window was open and they could deploy within minutes. Several stationary Earthshaker heavy artillery pieces had been deployed on the Concrete Plains. They had 2 Hellhound light flamer tanks in reserve by the Earthshaker cannons, ready for rapid deployment if some great beast should appear that they could not fell with lasguns or inaccurate artillery fire. The primary objective of this operation, code named 'Intrepid Explorer,' was to explore their surroundings. However, the secondary objective was to find any traces of the Traitor Space Wolves and any inkling as to where they could have gone. As they combed through the jungle, they encountered no more of the grasshopper xenos, though they definitely saw something shifting in the darkness.

Within an hour, they had crossed the jungle and found another concrete, flat landscape, but this time, there was a large wooden construct atop the concrete. It looked similar to a giant's house, though it was only the size of a small room and was a single level high. The wood was painted black and the construct was covered in light webbing with dark creatures stirring in the dark, all 8 eyes watching them closely. 3 squads advanced along the concrete, towards the colossal door, was they were watched from above. The radioed that they had reached an objective and the 2 Hellhounds drove forwards from the advanced base towards their location to help secure the 'Shed' as the massive sign above the door read. It took them only 20 minutes to reach the shed. When the Hellhounds arrived, they found several xenos carcasses scattered around the squads with several wounded soldier and a few dead guardsmen. The xenos identified as 'spiders' had ambushed them while they had been waiting for the Hellhounds to arrive, but they had driven them back. Time was running out and they breached the shed quickly, with the Hellhounds ready to immolate anything hostile that moved in too close. Inside the shed were large metal constructs with oversized wheels. They appeared similar to combat bikes, but lacked an engine and the bulkiness of the armour plating. As they breached, light filtered inside and many dark creatures withdrew back to the shadows and did not disturb them. A brief time exploring revealed nothing of importance in the shed, and before long, the order to pull out was given. The infantry headed outside the shed as 2 Valkyries touched-down before them and the loading ramp in the rear lowered with the sound of high-powered hydraulics. The infantry quickly embarked and the Valkyries flew away, back to the main base as heavy-duty carrier ships arrived and attached to the Hellhounds and carried them back to the base. At the forward base, the withdrawal was slightly more complicated as heavy cables were tied around the Earthshaker cannons and they were attached to hooks on the underside of carrier ships. Valkyries landed and reserve troops and the men who manned the artillery embarked and loaded the unspent shells in stacks aboard before securing them in the centre of the troops' area and the Valkyries flew away. Within half an hour, the only sign they had ever been their was the faint cracks where they had drilled to secure the Earthshaker cannons, the tiny scorch marks in the grass from the las-fire, the many insect corpses and the ruined ground where the artillery had shelled, but most of the grass covered that evidence. The Guard had managed to extract the wrecks of the Sentinels and the bodies of the guardsmen that had fallen in battle.

* * *

 **Later, in Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

"So we found nothing in the jungle, and nothing in the black construct?" Commissar Reginald asked, as he leaned on the holo-display. All the high ranking officers in the Imperial Guard force stranded here were gathered in this Command Post, all of them huddled around the holo-display showing the geographical display of the layout of the 'garden' region.

"That is correct, sir." The scout leader reported. "Only new species of Xenos."

"We have begun analyzing the xeno for potential weakness using the corpses the men have recovered." The head tech-priest reported, his voice droning and metallic.

"That's all well and good, but we have lost several men today for virtually nothing!" The Commissar replied, fists clenched. "Please tell me we've made progress with our prisoners."

"I'm sorry, sir." One of the psykers said. "We have been trying but their minds appear to empty of taint and they have no memory of what may have happened. And I would like to remind you, sir, that they are not prisoners. They may have been taken into custody, but they are still our allies."

In one fluid motion, the Commissar drew his pistol and leveled it at the head of the psyker who spoke. "That sounds like an agent of Chaos talking to me!"

The scout leader stepped between them and pushed the Commissar pistol slowly down until it pointed to the floor. "Easy, sir. Let's not have any more bloodshed today."

The Commissar grudgingly holstered his pistol, his eyes still locked on those of the terrified psyker.

Governor-Militant Anderson stood back from the dim blue glow of the holo-display and in the shadows, watching the meeting in silence, hand on his chin as he pondered on something. Captain Westfield stood on the opposite side of the room, also in the shadows and, seeing the Governor, he made his way around the room until he stood next to him.

"What are you thinking, sir?" The captain asked, whispering.

"Hm?" The Governor snapped out of his dazed state. "Nothing. Just... wondering... This business with the Traitor Astartes. It troubles me. What could possess such a noble order as the Astartes to covert to Chaos?"

"I'm unsure. Such a thing hasn't happened since the Horus Heresy."

"That is what causes the most fear within me. I am not afraid of dying, captain. What I fear is a repeat of the Horus Heresy. Without the Holy Emperor in battle, we will stand little chance against another Black Crusade." The Governor sighed sadly.

"The Emperor protects, sir."

"Yes, captain. The Emperor protects..."


	6. Guests

**Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

"Yes, captain. The Emperor protects..." Governor Militant Anderson said.

The holo-display flickered and the image changed from a map of the 'garden' sector to a 3D image of a young guardsmen, standing to attention.

"Governor Anderson, sir?" he spoke.

"Yes?" Anderson replied, stepping towards the display.

"Sir, there is someone here to see you. He awaits you in the Shrine to the Emperor."

"Who is this man?"

"I'm unsure, sir. His tech seems a patchwork of different models of weapons and armour, and he and his entourage were all wearing hooded cloaks, but their is no mistaking the size of a mighty Astartes."

The room went silent as everyone absorbed this information.

"I will be there shortly, guardsman." The Governor spoke.

"Understood, sir." The guardsman saluted and the display flickered back to the virtual map.

* * *

 **Shrine to the Emperor, Underground City...**

As the Governor approached the most holy Shrine to the Emperor, he noticed the bolters resting against the wall, next to the doorway. Clearly whoever these mystery Space Marines were, they saw fit to leave their weapons at the door in respect to the Emperor. Anderson walked inside and saw the hulking figures of 4 marines knelt in prayer before the statue of the Emperor, with a fifth marine in front of them, obviously their leader, also knelt in prayer. Although they had placed their bolters at the door, the leader still carrier a massive sword of intricate design in a holster on his back. All 5 marines wore armour that seemed to be both dark green and black, but neither at the same time. As the guardsman had said, they all wore tattered robes with hoods that concealed their helmets. Governor Anderson stood in the doorway for several moments, not wanting to disturb their silent prayers. As one, the 5 Space Marines rose and turned to face the Governor. The 4 at the back parted to allow their leader to walk through. Their helmets were a mixture of Mark V Heresy Armour and Mark VI Corvus Armour, with one marine wearing a helmet of Mark IV Imperial Maximus Armour. These were very old models of armour. Their leader wore no helmet though, the majority of his face concealed in the shadow of his hood, but a selection of scars could be seen and his face twisted in a grotesque way as he attempted to smile.

"Greetings, Governor..." he said, his voice sweet and honeyed despite the gravel of age showing in his words.

"Greetings." Anderson replied, cautious around this unknown warrior. "Care to tell me why it was me you requested to see?"

"Simple. I believe you and I have a mutual interest. A common goal, as it were. I understand you have some Space Wolves that went rogue?"

"Yes... What of it?" Anderson replied, careful not to let the eagerness in his voice show.

"I may have some intelligence that could help you with that. And we could help improve your defenses here. All we ask for in return is a place here in this territory and to part of your command."

"Very well. I'm sure the others would like to hear what you have to say. You have a deal." Anderson decided, rubbing his hands together in elation.

The 5 marines nodded their heads in thanks.

"Say," Governor Anderson said before leaving, "What did you say your name was?"

The man's face twisted into a wicked grin again. "You can call me Cypher..."

* * *

 **Arrow Vale Academy...**

Against my better judgement, considering how well things went last time, I decided to bring several soldiers to school again with me today. I allowed Commissar Reginald to bring a small honour guard with him in my bag to come to school, but I promised them that they would regret it if they caused any trouble. The Commissar seemed agitated to be forced to follow the orders of someone of lower rank than himself, but when I'm so much larger, he knew he had no choice but to listen. He grudgingly accepted. Today was Monday, so my first lesson of the day was psychology, and I placed my bag on the table, slightly open so I could keep a close eye on them. The teacher droned on and on about cognitive functions and me and my classmates barely listened, bored out of our minds. I had set up my phone in my bag so the guardsmen could watch YouTube on my phone, with the headphones on quiet so they could hear it without making too much noise. They had learned how to use the YouTube app by now. Most of the guardsmen were content to waste time away by watching YouTube, but the Commissar kept poking his head out, trying to survey the surroundings. One guardsmen, however, sat cross-legged at the edge of the bag, in the opening, watch the teacher and PowerPoint eagerly. He made small notes on a small scroll of parchment with a quill. It seems he was quite the scholar. It made me smile to think that despite the very rigorous and disciplined nature of the guard forces, they were still individual people with their own unique personalities. I also smiled because the guardsman reminded me of myself, in a way. Not because he was studious, but because he preferred a traditional sense of things. For example, instead of recording everything in a dataslate, he made a record on parchment. It was similar to how I view Kindles. Sure, its great to have so many books readily available at the click of a button on a tablet, but you can't be the feel of a real book in your hands. I loved reading. I collect all of the 40k books that are released and slowly my shelves are consumed by them. I was snapped out of my thoughts by the yelling of my name as the teacher asked me a question. Well, time to do what I do best: Wing it.

* * *

Later, on my lunch break, I went into the school library and sat in a quiet corner, away from everyone at out of sight. I loved it here. This was my spot. So tranquil and peaceful. I opened my bag and allowed the squad and Commissar to stretch their legs while I grabbed my book from my bag and opened it to the page my bookmark lay in. I was on page 141 of the 40k novel, Horus Rising. The book was very interesting and the storytelling was so captivating, I was really enjoying the experience of reading it. I sat there, on the floor, delving into the wondrous world of words once more when Commissar Reginald caught my attention by yelling up to me with the assistance of a Vox caster.

"Say, Thomas? What was that woman speaking about earlier about 'cog-nit-ive functions? Her monotone voice gave me a headache..." He rubbed his head as he said this.

"Tell me about it..." I replied. "I have no idea what the hell she was talking about either. One of your men knows though. I saw him making notes. Maybe he could help me revise it later."

"Perhaps. We all call him Scholar as a nickname because of it. He is always eager to learn new things."

As we spoke, the school librarian stormed over to my little hiding spot and 'shushed' me with a deep frown on her face. I mouthed an apology to her, wise of her trick of fooling students into saying sorry and then kicking them out for continuing to talk. She could be an absolute nightmare sometimes. As she walked away, I raised my finger to my lips in a gesture of silence to the Commissar and he nodded in understanding. I continued to read for a while, getting through 2 more chapters and starting on the next when the Commissar couldn't help himself and used the Vox caster again.

"Thomas? What are you reading? I see it that manuscript is named Horus Rising, and I do not like the name of such a document. It sounds highly heretical to me. You aren't falling for the lies of Chaos too, are you?"

"No," I whispered. "The only time I have done that was a few months back when I read 'The First Heretic' about Lorgar of the Word Bearers being disgraced by the Emperor and succumbing to Chaos. I pitied him and built up a Word Bearer force for a while, but I soon returned to the righteous cause of the Imperium."

Again, the librarian stormed around the bookshelves to confront me. He face was now starting to go red with anger and a vein throbbed in her head as she shushed me this time. Again I nodded my apologies and she began walking away when I turned to the Commissar and harshly whispered for him to "Shut up." Unfortunately for me, the librarian was not yet out of earshot and she thought I was talking to her. Slowly she turned to face me again, he eyes becoming now slits as she glared at me with pure hatred.

Several minutes later, I was stood outside the library and told not to come back until I had learned the meaning of 'silence.'

I wasn't mad at the Commissar to be honest. He was just curious. The librarian was always an angry woman anyway. The rest of the day passed fairly quickly, with the rest of my lessons being 'free' with the exception of last lesson which was business.

* * *

When I got home, my parents told me to hurry up and get changed into something smart as we were going out for dinner with my grandparents. I dashed upstairs and threw my bag on my bed. I flung my tie onto a coat-hook on the back of my door and dived into my wardrobe. I pulled out a black polo shirt with white trimming and a pair of denim jeans. I went into the bathroom to change and minutes later, I was ready to go. I put on my Assassin's Creed hoodie to keep me warm and we headed out to the car. I was in such a rush that I didn't notice the Space Marines scattered around me room. Or the 3-man squad of scouts in the pocket of my hoodie...

* * *

We went to a local pub and carvery called the Barley Mow. For those that don't know, a carvery is where you pay for a meal and you queue up and wait to be served. Service is usually a chef behind a counter with a selection of cooked meats and you can have whichever ones you want (I usually ask for a bit of everything). After you have been served the meat, you are free to pile on as much vegetables, chips or gravy as you can fit. Overall, it leads to a very nice meal and a lot of fun. The meal was delicious as always and me and my family chatted a lot with my grandparents as we had not seen them in some time. The whole evening was going smoothly... until I looked across the table and in my line of sight, amongst the glasses behind the bar, were 3 Cadian scouts, navigating cautiously between glasses and bottles. It was a miracle they hadn't been spotted so far. I panicked and began to worry. 'I have no way of communicating with them. What do I do?!'

* * *

 **Sector Bravo-Kilo, the skies above the Great Jungle...**

"Command, this is Angel squadron. This is Angel squadron to command."

"We copy you, Angel 1. Report progress."

"We have the bogey in sight, command. The bogey appears to be a large feline xeno of some kind. On approach now."

"Roger that, Angel 1. Good hunting."

The 3 Valkryies of Angel squadron zoomed over the grass of the garden, having only recently launched and exited the bedroom via the window, to engage something that had been spotted by a squad of scouts embedded in the grass, or 'Great Jungle.' Their fire mission was a strafing run against the creature in an effort to bring it down or at the very least drive it away before it detected the scouts and engaged them. The cat looked up at the Valkryies as they dived quickly, pulling up before plummeting into the ground and flying low, ready to attack. They pulled up just shy of the cat and fired a huge rocket barrage at the creature. Missiles crashed into it and exploded in its fur, causing sharp pain which made the cat hiss and jump up in the air in surprise. It quickly scarpered into a nearby bush before retreating back into the neighbour's garden. The pilot of Angel 1, the leader of the squadron, looked behind him, turning in the cockpit, as he watched the feline xeno withdraw.

"Command, this is Angel 1." he reported. "Bogey has withdrawn. I repeat: Bogey has withdrawn. Mission Accomplished."

Angel squadron performed a synchronised turn in formation and flew back to the hangar bays beyond the window.

* * *

I was relieved when I noticed the scouts noted me and pointed in my direction. This could be the chance I needed. Standing up from the table, I asked if anyone wanted a refill of drinks. My mom asked for another J2O and everyone else politely declined my offer. As I walked over to the bar, I could see the scouts rappelling down the shelves of glasses using thick cables, though to me, it was about the thickness of string. I ordered 2 J2Os from the woman behind the bar and as she turned to fetch the drinks from a nearby fridge, I ducked behind the bar and pretended to re-tie my shoelaces. The scouts came dashing around the bar on the floor, dodging the feet of workers behind the bar as they made their way to me. The jumped into my hand as I stood up and in one fluid move, I deposited them back into my pocket. I paid for the drinks and carried them back to the table where my family sat. When I was only 2 feet away, someone collecting their food wasn't looking and nearly bumped into me. I had to stop abruptly to avoid spilling the drinks.

"That was a close one." my mom smiled to me as I placed the drinks on the table.

I sat back down and breathed a huge sigh of relief. "You have no idea..."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys. I'd just like to say thank you all so much for reading and reviewing my story, it really means a lot to me. In particular, I would like to thank murciamatthewx for his review. This chapter is largely inspired by him asking for more 'normal' events. I listen to those who help and so I would like to again say thank you again to all who review this story.**


	7. Cypher's Plan

**Commander Post Alpha, Underground City...**

Strange. There was something not quite right about them, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it... When these noble Astartes first arrived, they were but a single squad of veteran tactical marines, all wearing robes with hoods, offering to help the Imperial Guard stationed here. But now that the Governor had agreed to letting them stay, they were everywhere! Squads of similarly robed Space Marines now patrolled the Underground City, and occasionally, someone would stumble into a patrol of Marines wearing Terminator plate power armour. From the colour of the armour, the Captain guessed that they wore Deathwing Terminators from the Dark Angels chapter. The power armour of the robed marines was a green so dark that it was almost black, and this reinforced the idea that they were Dark Angels. However, something didn't quite seem right about them. Captain Westfield couldn't quite place his finger on what it was, but something definitely didn't seem right. He spent several hours scrolling through whatever dataslates they had, looking through them for information on the Dark Angels and the leader of this particular group who called himself Cypher. But regardless of how much time he spent researching, he couldn't find a single record about the man. 'Astartes,' he corrected himself. The Space Marines were beyond mortal men such as himself. Still, he shrugged mentally. He assumed the reason for not finding any information on Cypher was due to the records being incomplete. Much information was lost upon arriving here, in this universe. Or, it could be that he was a member of the Dark Angels who worked from the shadows, but had been forced by recent events to step forward and command from the light. It would make sense. The Dark Angels were notoriously secretive after all. For now, the Captain stood atop the Command Post Alpha, staring across at the city before him. The Space Marines had occupied Sector 5 of the city, but that didn't stop them expanding their patrols to encompass the entire city. He tried to reassure himself that it was simply them further securing the area, ensuring the guardsmen's and their own safety. But he could not deny all of the reports of guardsmen cowering in fear, claiming they could feel the eyes of the Astartes boring into their soul from behind the heartless lenses of their helmets. From what the guardsmen could see, the Space Marine guests never removed their helmets or armour. At least, they never did publicly anyway. He presumed they did so in the secrecy of their own quarters. Emperor knows why they felt like they had to do that. The only one who had ever shown the face behind the helmet was their leader, Cypher. But even he never removed more than his helmet. The robes and armour stayed on at all times, like all the other marines. Strange, the Captain thought. There was something not quite right about them, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

* * *

 **Sector 5, Underground City...**

Cypher stood over a small tin basin with warm inside that rested on a counter in his personal quarters. He cupped the warm water in his hands and splashed it on his face. He could feel the dirt and stress of the day wash away as the water dripped off his face. He would never show it to anyone, but even he got stressed. He had successfully convinced the Governor Militant to allow them to stay, but organising his men had taken some time. Once they were all settled in, he had to organise patrol routes and deployments across the so called 'Underground City.' It was not as easy as it sounds, but he had managed to sort it so the patrols and stationed troops held maximum efficiency in the controlling the area. He could easily crush the guard forces now, if he so wished. The thought cast a wicked grin on his face once more. He liked holding all the cards. He was totally in control. As he splashed more water on his face, he scrubbed it dry again with a nearby cloth. Then, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he had the sudden paranoia that he was being watched. Centuries on the run from the Dark Angels had taught him much, most apparently the need to trust his highly honed instincts. He slowly reached for his pistols and, upon feeling their reassuring touch, he wheeled around on the spot, raising his plasma and bolt pistol to point at the intruder. The grin returned.

"Sergeant. I was wondering when you would return. What news do you bring?"

A man seemed to emerge from the wall, the abstract patterns of his cloak causing him to appear to merge in to the background when he held still. He had spent many centuries learning to hide effectively, and he was now a master of his craft.

"The rogues are close, sir. And despite the guardsmen dealing with most of their troops and vehicles when they departed, they still have enough to crush the guard if they carried out an all out attack." The sergeant reported, his voice low and gruff.

"I see... and have you located a potential location for reinforcements?"

"Aye, sir. Two such places, in fact. One is close but reinforcements will be minimal and slow. The second is significantly further away, but holds a bigger range of reinforcements and a lot higher numbers too."

"Hmm... very well. Get your squad and landspeeder ready and refueled. We shall depart shortly. I trust no-one saw you?"

The scout sergeant grinned broadly. "No-one ever sees us coming. Slipping past the guard patrols was easy. Your own patrols saw to that. And we've parked the landspeeder out of sight too."

"Excellent work, sergeant." Cypher returned the sergeants grin. He found comfort in his little 'asset' that others had no knowledge about. It opened up a door of a lot of opportunities.

* * *

"And for the last time, don't try hiding in my pockets. I'd hate for you guys to get caught." I was lecturing the scouts as I walked up the stairs to my room, back from the meal with my family. It was a damned miracle that they hadn't been caught. They seemed to have learned their lesson though.

When I walked into my room, I was greeted by the familiar military checkpoint at the foot of my door, manned by guardsmen to prevent intrusions from any other factions that may have made it into my house. But when I looked more closely, I saw a man, taller than the others and twice as bulky, wearing Mark VI 'Corvus' Power Armour. Why the hell was their a Space Marine in my room? The Space Wolves that had not gone rogue were currently held captive someone deep in the city under my bed, and none of my Space Wolves wore hooded robes over their power armour. Plus, I severely doubted the Imperial Guard would trust them to arm them once more. After all, their battle brothers were shooting at them a few weeks ago. Something felt off. I walked over to my chest of drawers and found a man with a radio stationed there. I placed the scouts down next to him and politely asked that he summon the Governor to meet me. He nodded and within a few minutes, Governor Anderson was standing on my chest of drawers as well, and he asked why he had been summoned.

"I just wanted to ask you something, Governor. Why is there a Space Marine at the checkpoint in the doorway?"

The Governor smiled at me and happily explained. "I was summoned to the Shrine to the Emperor several days ago by a squad of unknown marines. It turns out they wish to help us and they may have information on the rogue Space Wolves!"

"And you just trusted them?" I asked, skeptical.

"Yes."

"Even after what happened last time we trusted Space Marines?" Again, I was still skeptical.

"Yes..."

"And you didn't think to tell me?!" I was starting to get agitated.

"No...?"

I sighed in frustration. "Well, how long have they been here?"

"Several days."

I thought for several seconds. "Fine. Just... keep an eye on them, yeah?"

"Very well, sir." Anderson saluted.

I heard my mom yell my name from downstairs. "THOMAS!"

"Yeah?" I yelled back down to her.

"Did you shoot the neighbour's cat with your BB gun?"

"No..?" I yelled back, confused. I looked at the Governor for answers, perplexed. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment.

"Cat? So that's what you call it. We, erm... may have called down a strafing run on it..."

I have to remember to order the tech-priests to analyse any 'threats' before they engage it next time. The Governor touched his headset as someone called him on their radio. He nodded several times as the voice spoke. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but judging by the Governor's face, it was not good news. He removed his hand from the headset and whoever was calling him finished their report.

"Tom," he said "Dire news. Our scouts report another horde of Necrons crossing the 'landing' and are headed for the border. They are mostly infantry but they have a few heavy vehicles. No Monoliths spotted yet."

"By the Emperor..." I sighed, "Where do they keep coming from?"

I was so caught up in my thoughts, I failed to notice the landspeeder zooming away outside the open window.

* * *

 **Sector Bravo-Kilo, The Great Jungle...**

Outside, in the depths of the grass, a 5-man squad of Cadian scouts were still scouring the area. The walked in a line with each man 10 feet away from each other, so they could quickly help each other if they were to be engaged. Though the grass jungle was so dense, they still couldn't see each other. Their leader's exact orders were: "Try to scream when you die, so we know where to run away from." As you can imagine, that didn't help morale. But today was like any other day. It was no different for them. They were still surrounded by green and shadows moving all around them. It drove a man mad to think of all the things that could be watching them. They tried to push the thoughts from their minds, but every time the wind caused the grass to move, the thoughts came flooding back, unbidden and unwanted. Then all of their fears were realised as a bloodcurdling shriek of agony and fear split the air. The grass surrounding them began to shake violently as the cries of intense pain continued. Then there was a ripping noise like old Velcro, and the screams suddenly stopped. None of the scouts dared to move. They heard the voice of their leader in their headsets ordering them to form up on him, but their limbs refused to respond when they tried to move. They had become completely paralysed by fear. The leader ordered them again, but still they failed to move at all. Then the grass shifted as something moved rapidly through it, circling them. Circling its prey. Suddenly, the fear reversed its effects and it now drove them to move faster. They sprinted over to their leader's position. The stood in a group of 4, standing back to back, watching all of their surroundings. Under the leader's orders, they slowly shifted over to the last known position of the man who had failed to form up, their eyes wary and alert, constantly searching for the threat. As the approached his last known position, they found him lying in an opening in the jungle, red surrounding him. Sunlight shined down on him. Then the smell hit them. They all recoiled from the stench of a man's bowels emptying in his last minutes of life, and one of them vomited heavily, the contents of his last meal discharging onto the ground around them. They edged closer, faces contorted by disgust, and discovered that only half of him was lay on the ground. His guts spilled out from where he had been split at the waist, his blood pooling around him. His bloody hands were positioned in such a way that it appeared that he had spent his last moments desperately trying to hold his guts inside of him. His neck had been slashed so deeply that is was now only held on my a few layers of skin at the back of his neck. His broken neck could be seen jutting outwards, clearly the thing that finished him off. Half of his face bubbled and boiled, as if only recently been corroded by acid. What had done this to him? How much pain had he endured before he was given a mercifully quick end?

They heard a hiss to their left and all wheeled to face the source of the sound, but saw nothing. Behind them, a towering four-armed figure rose from the shadows, dwarfing each man. They slowly turned as it hissed again, and before they could level their guns at it, it was upon them. Within mere seconds, each man was dead. Each had been grotesquely carved up in a different way. The four-armed creature dragged the corpses back into the dense shadows of the grass jungle, ready to be devoured...


	8. The Battle of the Bedroom (Part 1)

The engines of the Valkyries on the Launchpad hummed to life and the pilots activated their engines. The pitch of the engines shifted and became higher and higher as the pilots increased the throttle on the vertical engines. Slowly, pressure on the landing struts was relieved as the bulky forms of the Valkyries began to rise. Completing the final checks on all systems, the pilots slammed the throttle home and the aircraft zoomed forward. As soon as they switched to an open Vox link, their headsets were flooded with Imperial chatter and requests for strafing runs and air support from the scouts stationed in the 'landing' area. One of the Valkyries had been specifically designated as an evacuation shuttle for the stranded scouts. Both side doors had been locked open and crew manned the heavy bolters, ready to provide covering fire for the retreating scouts, Vietnam style. The Valkyries all vector-turned mid-air, circling around the giant known as Tom as he made his was 'downstairs' to keep the other giants occupied and hopefully remove them from the house for a time so they would not be discovered. Below them, Basilisk mobile-artillery platforms made final adjustments to the trajectory of their shots as they made ready to fire and bombard the advancing enemy. Leman Russ main battle tanks formed a protective blockade in front of the artillery, primed and ready to blast the ever-living hell out of anything that came too close to their lines. In front of the tanks, guardsmen manned barricades, lasguns pointed at the abandoned border checkpoint where the enemy would have to filter through. Space Marines were stationed behind the barricades too, spaced out to provide maximum morale to the guardsmen either side of each of them. At the entrance of the Underground City on the right flank, Deathwing Terminators stood braced and ready to protect their new home, their bone-white armour contrasting against the dull and dark backdrop of the Underground City. On the roofs of buildings, Cadian scouts aimed their sniper rifles at the border checkpoint, ready to take down any prominent targets. The left was nothing but a gigantic wall, which ensured that that flank was safe and secure. A Baneblade super-heavy tank rolled into position behind the barricades, ready to fire over the defenders and slaughter the enemy. Then the defenders waited. They waited for the enemy to smash upon them like waves upon rocks. They would be crushed. The Necrons would not gain a foothold here. The defenders waited.

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 1, Sector 3...**

Captain Westfield paced up and down a small section of the barricade, impatient. They had waited 5 minutes now, but still, no sign of the enemy showed itself. They could here the distant bangs of explosions and gunfire as the Valkyries skirmished with the Nercon forces, but so far no signs of combat had reached them. This was the worst part of a battle in the mind of Captain Westfield. The dread of waiting for an inevitable battle when you had no idea if you were winning or the enemy was. He was a veteran of many campaigns, including the defence of the city of Broucheroc. During that defence, he had survived his 15 hours in the trenches and his was all the better for it. He knew what it took to survive. 15 hours was the average life expectancy of a guardsman during the defence, and he had survived months, right until the planet was abandoned and evacuation shuttles finally arrived to take them away and withdraw the colossal fuel stores too. Then, the inquisition virus bombed the planet, wiping out the Ork horde there. That was before he came to this strange universe though. But being him now taught him a valuable lesson. War never changes...

* * *

 **The Landing...**

Adrian pulled the trigger and fired the heavy bolter repeatedly into the oncoming Necrons. They slowly lumbered forwards towards the pinned down scouts. Adrian's Valkyrie was the one designated to carry out the evacuation of the scouts and he was manning on of the heavy bolters. His job was to clear a landing zone for the Valkyrie to land in, and then provide covering fire to protect the scouts as they dashed for the safety of the Valkyrie. Currently, the Valkyrie was circling overhead, waiting for an opportunity to land. The other Valkyries where engaged in deadly dogfights against Necron flyers. Adrian just held the trigger down as he mowed down Necrons left and right but no matter home many he shot down, there was always more, and even those he shot down sometimes stood back up again. Checking a display to his right, Adrian was reassured to see that he still had plenty of ammo to burn through until the great gun fell silent. In the corner of his eye, he saw a Doomscythe shot down by another Valkyrie and it plummeted to the ground, engines trailing a tail of flame behind them. It smashed into the advancing Necrons, crushing the 100 meters from the scouts, and skidded for several yards, clearing a space. The pilot of Adrian's Valkyrie saw his chance and set down in the space, blocking the Necrons from the scouts. He landed side-on so it would be pointless to open the main boarding ramp. They could enter through the side door behind Adrian while Adrian provided covering fire. The scouts dashed the 100 meters between them and safety as fast as their legs could carry them. Gauss fire raked the hull of the Valkyrie either side of Adrian, but he kept the trigger on the heavy bolter depressed and shifted left to right, right to left, mowing down all of the approaching Necron infantry. The last of the scout leapt through the side door as one Necron got lucky and hit Adrian in the mid-section. Adrian flew backwards from the force of the shot, forcing him to release his grip on the heavy bolter. With no-one pulling the trigger, the gun fell silent. Adrian felt... strange. He expected to feel pain, but there was none. It wasn't just pain he couldn't feel. He couldn't feel anything. There was nothing. The pilot powered up the throttle once more and the bulky Valkyrie began to rise, as Adrian's fellow gunner slammed Adrian's side door shut and crouched over his fallen friend. He tried desperately to stop Adrian's rapidly bleeding stomach, but his friend's lifeless eyes stared at him with confusion.

'Why are you trying to save a dead man?' the eyes said. Adrian was dead before his friend could even reach him.

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 1, Sector 3...**

All the guardsmen stood up from their position behind the barricades, alert to the sound of approaching engines. They looked up at the sky and saw a lone Valkyrie limping back to their lines, one of the engines aflame. They could still hear the sound of fighting in the distance, so they could easily assume that the fight continued around the corner. The approaching Valkyrie was rapidly losing height as it fought to keep flying. Knowing that it would not be able to rise to the open hangars up on the chest of drawers, it landed behind the lines of artillery and disembarked its cargo. The scouts clambered out of the damaged craft and one of the crew members carried a dead crewmate over his shoulder as fire crews dashed to the craft and immediately began to combat the fire before it could become too severe. At least the rescue operation was a success. Captain Westfield was still uneasy. A few minutes later, Command released reports that the air battle had been won and all enemy flyers were down. Now the Valkyries maintained air superiority, hammering enemy positions and keeping them pinned. Those in the trenches though continued the long wait, dreading the enemy every second. They were waiting for the enemy horde to come charging around the corner, cross the border and sweep towards them and fall upon them. Captain Westfield looked at the men around him and the fear on their faces was clear. They had all gone pale and several swallowed nervously. He thought of motivating them with an uplifting speech, but he quickly decided against it. It wasn't his place to speak and he had nothing to say. He stared ahead as the silence behind the barricades continued.

* * *

The legion of Necrons advanced fearlessly onward, towards the guard defense line. Their weaponry was all trained dead ahead, right at the terrified defenders. Overhead, Valkyrie gunships fired into them with heavy bolters, missile barrages and lascannon shots, but still they advanced without so much as a hesitation. They were already cursed. They had no fear.

"Ready!" Captain Westfield yelled, raising his laspistol high. The men around him all mounted the firing step and leveled their lasguns at the enemy before them. Each and everyman checked that the power cell was correctly fitted and that the safety catch was off. They sighted the targets ahead, grim faced.

"Aim!" The captain yelled, his voice not betraying his fear. It would not do for the men to see their commanding officer afraid. He had to remain steadfast, for them.

"Hold!" He yelled as the Necrons continued their relentless advanced. "Hold..."

The men began to shake as the enemy approached, several rubbing the sweat clear of their eyes and quickly aiming down the sights again. A nervous private looked at the Captain in confusion. This was his first foray into combat. He was young, fresh faced with almost no hair on his face. His hair was a dusty mop of brown and blonde, and his eyes were a bright grey, giving light to his youth.

"Sir?" he asked. The Captain didn't so much as acknowledge him. The Necrons were now only 100 (miniatures') metres away. "Sir?!" the young soldier asked again.

"FIRE!" the Captain bellowed. As one, all guardsmen across the entire first barricade opened fire as the commanding officers of other sectors gave the same synchronized signal. A volley of lasfire flew from the barricades and slammed home into the Necrons. Several of the first few ranks collapsed dead from the initial fusillade. Accuracy was not an issue, because with the Necrons so tightly packed together, the guardsmen were bound to hit something. It was near impossible to miss. Within seconds, the second 'fire' order was given and the Imperial line lit up again, bringing down more of the incoming Necrons. Heavy bolter positions all along the line also opened fire, further deteriorating their ranks. Space Marines fired their bolters full-auto, their gene-enhanced senses and reflexes allowing them to take down targets with pinpoint precision. From behind the lines, Basilisks made final adjustments to trajectory, before firing their shells over the Imperial lines and hammering into the enemy, the familiar whistling shriek of falling shells cutting the air. And stationed at several points behind the second defense line, smaller mortars were being loaded by their two-man teams and they too began firing. Leman Russ tanks volley fired into the horde as well, explosions throwing Necron warriors in all directions. The Baneblade opened up and a massive blast caused many Necrons to simply become nothing but dust as the explosion obliterated them. Cadian snipers on the right flank aimed for Necrons that stood out: Overlords and other high-ranking targets. The terminators on the right flank's storm-pattern bolters also gunned many Necrons down. Under this initial firepower, the Necrons were forced back several paces as untold numbers of them died. But still, they forged on, unrelenting.

"Fire at will!" The Captain ordered, and now the guardsmen fired as fast as they could at the hostiles. Several guardsmen changed power cells after emptying their current cell, then resumed firing. When the Necrons were within 50 meters, almost all guardsmen switched to full-auto on their lasguns, and let rip into the enemy. Again the Necrons died in droves and were forced back a few meters, but again they continued to stream on. They were closing in now. Just 25 meters to go. Gauss fire raked the barricades, forcing many guardsmen to duck behind the barricade, and killing those unfortunate enough not to get their heads down in time. Several of the men manning the heavy bolters were killed, those that survived often found that their weapon had not. The Space Marines did not so much as flinch from the oncoming fire. Most shifted and grunted slightly as gauss shots hammered into their shoulder plates. Only a few were gunned down. Most stood straight back up again. For the most part, the Necron army ignored the right flank, save for several warrior units that shifted in that direction to draw that flank's fire. They posed no serious threat to the flank and were quickly dispatched, and the defenders swiftly resumed their fire on the main force. But with most of the troops in the barricade cowering behind cover, much of the Imperial firepower had been diminished, allowing the Necrons to advance further. Just 10 meters to go.

"Affix bayonets!" Captain Westfield called, and all guardsmen quickly draw their blades and secured them just below the barrel of their lasguns. The enemy were within 5 meters now. He himself switched the laspistol to his weak hand, and drew his saber with the other. The captain cast a quick glance around him. Many of the men under his command were now dead, their bodies thrown haphazardly around the line, grotesquely mutilated by gauss fire. He was at least relieved to see the young guardsman with the dusty brown hair still alive. He hated the thought of such a young life thrown away. In the corner of his eye, he saw the Space Marines draw their power-swords. It was another strange thing he had noticed about these Marines. The standard issue close-combat weapon for a Space Marine was a chainsword. But the captain heard no revving. All of them had power swords. He had no more time to ponder on the thought as the Necrons were upon them.

* * *

 **Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

Governor Anderson stood in the Command post, as he and his council of advisors stood around the holo-display of the battle map, watching in fear as the seemingly endless tide of Necrons continued to flood through the border and towards the Imperial defense lines. The display read the Necrons as only being 10 meters away from the lines, and this worried the command council. The initial, punishing firepower of the Imperial forces had stemmed the tide, but over time, that firepower rapidly diminished. The Necrons didn't seem to really commit to the right flank, instead it appeared that they were intent on a head-on assault at the barricades. This was bitter-sweet news. It meant that the city and any auxiliary forces were (for the most part) safe, but it also meant that the barricades would bear the main brunt of the enemy army. The Governor could see several holes beginning to form in the enemy tide from the constant bombardment from their own forces, but it wasn't enough.

"My lord," the head techpriest said "They seem to be completely ignoring the right flank. If the center of our lines can hold on long enough, we may be able to shift the right flank to encompass them, cutting them off. From there, we can crush them."

"That's all well and good," Anderson replied, "But how long can the center line actually hold?"

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 1, Sector 3...**

Captain Westfield parried another blow from a Necron strike as it swung its weapon over his head and down to crush him. He knocked the blow to one side, before firing a laspistol shot point blank into it skull. Its head snapped back and the bright green glow of its eyes faded into lifelessness. Taking several seconds to recover, he looked around him. The first defense line was within complete disarray. Almost everyone was fighting in deadly close-combat. Guardsmen stabbed and slashed with bayonets and combat knives, while the Space Marines brought their power swords around in whirring arcs, dispatching their Necron foes with apparent ease. Some guardsmen had lost their weapons and were now fighting with their hands and teeth, while others desperately scrambled to pick up the weapons of the dead, and use that against the Necrons.

Over the din of the battle, a shrill whistle pierced the air. Every guardsmen heard it. That was the signal they had been waiting for. It was the signal that the dead and dying had spent their last moments hoping to hear. The artillery had now been angled to strike this barricade. The whistle was the order to fall-back to the next defense line.

"RUN!" someone yelled. Whatever guardsmen were left in the defenses that could still move quickly pushed back the Necrons engaging then, before turning tail and leaping away from the barricades. They sprinted back to the next defense line, the slow falling behind and several of them being gunned down by Necron gauss fire. Several helped wounded squadmates dash away from the barricades, while several others selfishly shoved those slower than them out the way, giving no empathy for those that could barely stand. Tanks drove in full reverse, firing as they went. Those that managed to be nearby and have some senses left in them during the crazed retreat leapt on the tanks and rode them back to safety. As the captain ran, he saw the young recruit with the grey dashing alongside him. Then green gauss fire hit the recruit's leg and he crumpled painfully to the floor. With no regard for his own safety, the captain skidded to a halt and turned back to the barricades and ran back to the fallen soldier. He was now well behind even the slowest of runners. The boy was alive, but his leg was bleeding rapidly.

"Sir? What are you doing here? You have to keep running from the enemy. Don't let them catch you!"

Captain Westfield ignored the young soldier and ripped the sleeve of his overcoat clean off. He wrapped the sleeve around the wound and tied it tightly, slowing the blood flow. Then they heard the whistle of falling shells again.

"Stay down!" the captain said, and lay across the young soldier protectively. The shells fell and the barricades were pummeled with their firepower. Necron warriors were quickly obliterated and dirt and dust covered the captain and stricken soldier, and the captain felt several large impacts strike his back. Then the air fell silent again as the artillery reloaded. The captain heaved the soldier to his feet and pulled his arm over his shoulders, bearing the boy's weight. He helped the soldier limp back to friendly lines as the Necrons closed in. Gauss fire skimmed by, not far from the captain as Necrons tried to gun him and the soldier down, but he kept on moving. Imperial forces on the second barricade line opened fire, pinning the Necrons down, but being careful to avoid hitting the captain and his comrade. Shells fell again and more Necron warriors succumbed to the blasts. The captain reached the defenses and climbed the barricade. He collapsed over the edge of the defenses and medics dashed over to him and the soldier and quickly attended to the boy. The captain leaned heavily against the barricades.

"Sir, you're hit." one medic said, approaching the captain. The captain looked down and saw the blood pooling near his stomach. 'He was hit' the medic had said. So he was, he thought. He almost blacked out as pain suddenly washed over him. Several medics rushed over to aid him but he brushed them off. He let the stem the blood flow and quickly bandage it up, but other than that, he didn't care for being patched up. He only had them do what was needed to keep him alive. They had a battle to win.

* * *

 **Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

"The first line has fallen, Governor." An elderly officer reported as the wave of red blips on the holo-display washed over the first line of green. The Necron force was so dense that none of the standard blue of the holo-display could be seen beneath them. And still, the horde showed no sign of ending.

"How could they build up such a force without any of us realising? Such a force would be difficult to cover up." The Governor pondered.

"My scouts did not see where they were stationed. They were ambushed by Necron Wraiths on The Landing, and by the time they had dispatched the Wraiths, the main force was closing in on all sides. They never saw where they came from. My apologies, sir." The Master of Scouts reported.

"No need to apologise, master Odien. I do not hold your scouts responsible. I'm sure they did what they could." The Governor replied calmly.

The Master of Ordinance touched a finger to his private Vox-link and listened to a fresh report from his officers. Nodding and clicking back in acknowledgement, he reported what he had been told to the rest of the Command Council.

"Sirs, I have just been informed that the artillery has just opened up on the first line of defense. They have been completely obliterated. The enemy will not advance on us with cover." he said.

"This is good news." The elderly officer reported, his voice rough like sand because of his age.

"Hmm... What's this?" The Master of Scouts wondered, gesturing to a point on the holo-display.

All the officers craned to look more closely to where he pointed, and they saw something troubling. Necron Heavy Destroyers had opened fire on the Terminators guarding the right flank and the Underground City. And this allowed some of the Necron force to peel off from the main force and strike the Underground City. They didn't know any of this, but the small wave of red blips pushing into the city was information enough.

"Dammit!" The Governor yelled, slamming his fist down on the holo-display table with rage. "Where is the Space Marine leader, that _Cypher_ character? The right flank s collapsing and we need him to commit more marines to that flank before it falls completely! Has no-one seen him?"

The War Council all shook their heads grimly. 'Where in the Warp was he?'

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 2, Sector 3b...**

The second line of Imperial defense was similar to the first line, only they had more raised bunkers, most of which had heavy weapons teams manning lascannons, heavy bolters or autocannons inside, with mortar teams stationed on the roofs. For now, the two Imperial knights held back in reserve, eager for Necron death but holding themselves back. It was best they saved their ammunition for now. They may be needed if the Necrons had any large vehicles up their sleeves. The tanks had now moved so they were behind the second line, ready to volley fire again.

Captain Westfield peered over the lip of the barricade before him and analysed the Necron advance. Their force still looked strong in numbers, but he noticed several units separate from the main body of their army and moved into the Underground City, most of its Terminator defenders already slain. The Captain had no doubt that the Cadian scouts acting as snipers in the high buildings of the Underground City were currently deciding whether to hold their ground and fight or to pull back to a safer spot before resuming firing. Whatever choice they made, they had to defend the city. If the city fell, they would lose everything. For now, the captain considered their current situation. The Necrons were now about 75 meters from this defense line, and the captain doubted he could survive another close-quarters encounter with the Necrons, as wounded as he was. But this line had to hold. After this defense line, there was one more, and then they were out of defences.

As with before, the withering firepower of the Imperial defences killed untold numbers of Necrons, but still the horde pushed on, unwavering. From his perspective, there was no end in sight of the Necron horde. It was if the numbers they had killed had been irrelevant compared to the total side of the force. It was clear that some of the troops thought this too. The fear was plain on their faces. He couldn't blame them. He himself felt the chill of horror climb up his spine. He had to find something to grab his attention. He checked his saber and laspistol. His saber was still honed and deadly sharp, thought now it had several chips along its length where it had met stiff resistance against Necron weaponry. His last remaining power cell was in his laspistol and was almost entirely depleted. As he saw this, he saw the head of a nearby guardsman explode into fragments of skull and brain matter as a lucky gauss shot hit his face. Most guardsmen recoiled in fear of the gore, and several brought their last meals back up, but the captain was used to death. The large splat of blood still filled his face with distaste, but he needed a weapon, so he picked up the dead soldier's lasgun. He wiped several bone fragments from the side of the gun and checked the energy level of the power cell. He was dismayed to see that it was also almost empty. Realising what he must do, he searched the corpse of the fallen guardsman for spare power cells. He was elated to have some luck at last and find three full power cells in the man's pouches. He loaded one into the gun and stuffed the other two into the pockets of his uniform. The captain stepped up onto the firing step and raised the rifle to fire over the barricade. Checking the safety catch was off, he opened fire into the Necrons once more. Overhead, more shells were falling and the Valkyries zoomed, carrying out strafing runs and dropping munitions directly onto enemy positions.

It worried the captain to see the Necrons bring forth heavier and more elite units, and to see the warriors that they had killed rise again to continue the fight against them. On the bright side, no monoliths... yet...

* * *

 **Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

The command post was suddenly in a flurry of activity as news reached them that Necron forces had infiltrated the city. Low ranking officers and those not used to combat roles such as scribes rushed around, panicking, unsure of what to do. The command council was generally calmer, being used to combat by now, though there still was the feeling of nervousness in the air about them. The head techpriest went about wirelessly activating defense turrets across the city, the Master of Scouts readied his sniper rifle by checking that the magazine was properly loaded and that the sight was correctly set up, and the Governor checked his plasma pistol and power sword. The elite guardsmen stationed in the command post as honour guard also checked their lasguns, ready for the coming combat. The veteran officers in the war council readied laspistols and sabers, their rank affording them no special armoury. Even the Master of Ordinance was preparing a laspistol. Then, their final checks completed, they powered down the holo-display and made their way from the darkness of the war room. The only light inside now came from the blue glow of the holo-display, showing the Imperium's Aquila as it powered down. The war council made their way through the corridors of the command post, and people rushed about all around them. They, however, stood cool, calm and collected. They were stone-faced. No matter how much everyone panicked, the calmed when they saw the calm demeanor of the war council, and parted to make way for them.

The war council arrived on the roof of the command post, towering high above the city. They could see everything from here. Even the distant advancing Necron horde could be sighted across the cityscape. They all collected in the centre of the rooftop, wary of potential shots missing their targets from the battle below suddenly becoming lucky and striking them down. The elite honour guard though showed no such fear, standing guard at the edges of the roof, ready to engage any opponents who approached. The only member of the war council to have the nerves to stand at the edge was the Governor, as he peered across the city. He could see several Space Marine units that had been held back in reserve, making their way through the dark alleyways of the city, looking for Necrons to find and kill. He even glimpsed sudden movements in the buildings that disappeared as quickly as they arrived. He assumed these to be the Cadian scouts moving positions to set up firing positions or ambushes for the invaders. The battle was definitely going ill for them. He could not see any Necrons from this position, but he heard the sounds of combat erupted all across the city. And the sounds were getting closer than he'd like.

"Any sign of the Space Marine leader yet?" he called back to the council.

"Negative, sir." The Master of Ordinance reported.

The Governor turned to face them, face red with rage. He raised his plasma pistol and leveled it at the Master of Ordinance.

"Where in the Emperor's eternal light is he?!" he bellowed.

The war council cowered away as the Governor raised his plasma pistol higher and shot a single shot. Behind the council, a Necron Wraith suddenly became visible, and it crumpled to the ground behind them, the plasma shot killing it instantly.

"Lieutenant," The Governor said, his voice calming and his face returning to normal, "You may want to instruct your men to be better on their guard. It would appear that the enemy has already infiltrated our defenses."

"Yes, sir." The veteran lieutenant said, shamefaced.

"Good." The Governor said. "Now I'm off to help reinforce the front lines. Keep these men safe."

And with that, he leapt down from the rooftop, and set off, looking for Necrons to kill.

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 2, Sector 3b...**

Captain Westfield could hardly believe it. They were holding! The relentless Necron advance had been stalled here at the second line. Wreckage covered no-man's land between the first and second lines of defense, and the Necrons were now cowering behind the cover that had been scattered so haphazardly across the battlefield. Guardsmen behind the barricades were still dying, but so too were the Necrons, and their defenses were holding. Perhaps this is how the battle was to won. Perhaps the Necrons would throw their forces upon this second line until their forces were exhausted and the Necrons were forced to retreat. That would indeed be a glorious victory! The captain was down to the last power cell of his acquired lasgun, and so he knew he would soon have to loot more corpses to salvage more fresh power cells. Ammunition was beginning to become a serious problem. The only good side about the guardsmen dying, however, was that most of them who died had spare power cells for the lasguns and laspistols, allowing the survivors to keep up the fight. They would more than likely lose should they all run dry of ammunition as they would be forced to charge across no-man's land, a move that was suicidal at best in the current situation. For now though, it looked as though they could hold on for a while longer... or so the captain thought.

As life has a tendency to do, all seems to be going well when one coincidence occurs and it sets of a chain of events that really puts things in a bad place. First, the Necrons began to push forward again, abandoning their cover. The lumbered forwards, the age-old machines showing little concern for themselves. Next, a group of Necron Immortals set up in a high building of the Underground City. Then a very unfortunate Valkyrie was requested to carry out a strafing run on the advancing Necrons position. It flew in low, barely several meters above the ground. It was too low. Earlier, during the air-battle, a lucky Doomscythe shot had shattered the glass of the cockpit and the glass had speared the pilot's right eye, halving his vision. Command could not afford to withdraw any aircraft from the air, so it was decided that he was fit enough to continue combat for now. Now the vision impairment meant that he did not fully see how close he was to the ground, and so he was easy prey for the heavy weapons of the Necron Immortals. They opened fire and shots raked the side of the Valkyrie. As the first barrage of missiles were fired, one lucky shot connected with a missile as it left its housing. The missile exploded, and the explosion caused all the other unfired missiles under that wing to explode simultaneously, tearing the wing free of the gunship and becoming nothing more than falling chunks of shrapnel. With only one wing, the pilot did his best to pull up and away, but the gunship was out of control. Red warning lights and noises erupted from the control panel before him as the craft zoomed over its targets and towards the barricades.

Captain Westfield's eyes went wide as he saw the flaming craft come hurtling toward his position. He barely had time to yell 'look out!' before the falling Valkyrie smashed into the barricades. He managed to dive out of its path, but many weren't as lucky. The captain sat up and turned around, and looked at the fallen craft as it rested on half-destroyed defenses. Then the flames found the fuel store and missiles on the other wing, and an explosion rocked the defenses and sent the captain flying backwards like a ragdoll. He crashed with a thump several feet away, further down the barricades. His vision swam and he was very disorientated. He kept blacking out before his vision swiftly returned, before blacking out again, and again, and again. He heard shouting and screaming, but everything sounded muffled and he could not understand the words. He saw metallic forms swarming forwards, clambering over the ruined barricades. Green lights streaked across the air, hitting his men and causing their innards to explode outwards. 'Where had his lasgun gone?' he thought. The battle had been pushed from his mind as he fought to maintain consciousness. He felt hands grab his arms, then he could feel his feet dragging beneath him as two people dragged him away from the barricades. He heard voices, and presumed they were coming from the two people and they were talking to him, but everything was still muffled, as if he was underwater. The words barely registered with him. As he was dragged further back, more figures filled his vision: soldiers shooting streaks of red lasers at the metallic people, some of them being hit by green streaks in return. He managed to move his head to see who was dragging him. His vision swam and it was all a blur, but as he looked, one of the men was brought down by the green streak. The man collapsed dead and the captain felt his elbow hit the ground. He winced in pain. The remaining soldier now changed position and grabbed him under his armpits now and continued to drag him backwards. More soldiers were falling and the metal men were getting ever closer. Off to the left, he saw the Baneblade explode in a colossal inferno as innumerable green streaks smashed into its hull. The metal men were getting even closer.

"Nearly there..." the captain heard a voice say. The voice sounded detached and distant, like someone was calling it out from far away, but it sounded next to him also.

'Strange' he thought as he lost his battle with consciousness and went limp in the man's arms.

* * *

 **Sector 5, Underground City...**

Small firefights were happening all over the city. Necrons engaged Space Marines or guardsmen who had been held in reserve to garrison to city. Some battles they won, others they lost. In some places, the Necrons pushed forwards heavily, leaving small pockets of resistance in their area of control as guardsmen that were so well entrenched in buildings that the Necrons just couldn't flush them out. These pockets did a lot of damage to the invading Necron force, but still the Necrons continued their advance. Governor Anderson had been aimlessly rushing around the city, engaging Necrons where he encountered them, sometimes supporting Space Marine or guardsmen squads hold a chokepoint until the Necrons withdrew to prod another defensive position. During his travels, the Governor found himself in Sector 5, the sector which the Space Marines had claimed as their own. In the distance, he spied the Shrine to the Emperor, and decided to make his way their. They might be in the middle of a losing battle, but maybe some faith in the Emperor was what they needed to win this. 'The Emperor protects' as the saying went.

Along the way, he found a joint force of Space Marines and Imperial Guard hiding around the corner of some ruins, currently engaged in a firefight with Necron warriors down the alleyway between the ruins. The Governor dashed into cover beside them, firing two plasma shots down the alleyway as he passed the gap. Both shots connected but only one Necron went down.

"How goes the fight?" he asked no-one in particular.

"Not well, sir." An old guardsman replied, a bloody bandage wrapped around his head. "The Necrons are pushing hard here and keep getting reinforcements. We can't push up to a better position until we deal with these guys."

The Governor poked his head around the corner and peeked down the alley again. He saw the guardsman spoke the truth as another squad of warriors shuffled out of an alleyway and joined those down this alleyway, firing at them.

"Do you have any grenades left?" He asked the guardsman as gauss fire forced him to hide behind the corner again.

"Negative." The gruff voice of a Space Marine replied.

"Yeah... we used them all trying to clear the small manufactorum." The guardsman added.

"Not that it helped. We still had to abandon that position before we were overrun." The Space Marine commented, firing his bolter on full-auto down the alley.

The Governor thought heavily on this. He was now more accustomed to large-scale strategy, but he was no stranger to small-scale tactics to resolve a firefight. Then a glint caught his eye and he knew the solution. Already, his tactical mind was clunking away, the gears of his brain working together to find the solution.

"Space Marine. Get your men into position and ready to fire down the alleyway. Guardsman, get your most agile soldier ready to make a run for it." The Governor said.

The Space Marine grunted in reply. The guardsman nodded and spoke to a middle-aged soldier further down the ruins. The Space Marines stacked up on the corners of the ruins while the middle-aged guardsman dashed over to the Governor.

"Where do you want me, sir?" he asked.

"You see the heavy bolter up there? On the second floor of this building?" The Governor said, pointing to the higher floors of the building they were taking cover behind.

The guardsman peered up to the 3rd floor of the ruins and saw the heavy bolter set up there, the two-man heavy weapons team that had formerly manned it lay strewn over the gun, dead. He gulped as he dreaded what the Governor would say next.

"I want you to climb up there as fast as you can, and then open fire on the Necrons. The Space Marines will provide covering fire." The Governor said. "Good luck, soldier."

The soldier gulped again, terrified. His throat felt parched and he desperately need a drink. At first he desired water, but then he wanted a stronger drink. Something to give him a bit of courage. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end in fear of what he was assigned to do. His hands felt cold and numb and his skin went pale. He had to be brave though. He reassured himself by telling himself that if he did not do it, countless others would die. He hopped from one foot to the other, trying to get some feeling back into them. It felt as though fear was slowly paralyzing him from the inside out.

"Get ready!" The Governor called.

The Space Marines loaded fresh magazines of bolter rounds into their bolters, and the middle-aged guardsman made ready to run for his objective, bravely pushing his fears aside.

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 3, Sector 4...**

Captain Westfield grunted with pain as his pushing himself up to a sitting position, and clutched his head as it erupted in pain. His face creased with the intense pain, and the medic attending to the other wounded guardsmen around rushed over to his side when he saw that the captain was awake. The captain tried to shake him off but the pain was too great and the medic was very persistent. He mentally shrugged and allowed the medic to do his job, deciding not to argue when he had just been launched several feet in the air by the explosion only moments ago. He still felt groggy and his stomach was still turning. The explosion had left him feeling dizzy and he found that he had to constantly steady himself as he unintentionally leaned as he sat. His left arm exploded in pain as he leaned on it, to which the medic suddenly remembered to tell him that it was broken. He flashed the medic a sarcastic smile of appreciation, to which the medic either ignored the sarcasm and smiled back, or was simply not smart enough to see the sarcasm in the smile. Either way, the captain allowed the medic to finish his work before pushing himself slowly, painfully to his feet. He stumbled and nearly fell back down to the ground, but a guardsman caught him and helped him to his feet. The captain whispered a quiet thanks with a grateful nod of the head. Only then did he realise who the guardsman was. Who had dragged him from the danger of the second barricade.

"Good to see you again, captain." The pilot smiled.

Captain Westfield had not see the pilot since he was unconscious at the hospital after the Space Wolves' betrayal. This was indeed a pleasant surprise. The two guardsmen clasped each others forearms in friendship.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be up there?" The captain asked, gesturing at the sky above.

"Nah. Not until I pass the fitness test again. My wounds damaged several organs, and they said that it wouldn't be safe for me to fly until they were certain I was fit enough again." The pilot smiled back. "But when the first barricade fell, they ordered everyone who could hold a gun to deploy into defensive positions. I deployed to the second line and when that Valkyrie came down, I headed over to defend the breach. That's when I spotted you."

"It was very brave of you to haul me to safety. I could see how close the Necrons were."

"It was my duty. And as I recall, you saved me by alerting the medics of my location when the Space Wolves went rogue. I had to return the favour. You're a good man captain. You'd risk your own life for the life of your men. Its only fair they should be willing to make the same sacrifice for you."

"Thank you, pilot. That means a lot."

"It's no problem, sir! And my friends call me Cairn."

* * *

 **Elsewhere...**

Gauss fire raked the debris around his feet but he kept running. He kept his head low but he kept running, knowing that to stop for even the briefest moment would mean certain death. He was not a coward. He would not take the coward's way out. He would die fighting, not running. So a fire burned in his eyes. A fire desperate not to be extinguished. He laughed as he ran and climbed higher and higher and higher and higher. The laugh made him appear insane but he didn't care. Laughing was the only way he could express the madness than now possessed him. He just kept on running and laughing, running and laughing, running and laughing... then he saw what he wanted most: safety. It was not safety for him, but it was safety for others. He urged his legs to run even faster towards his objective. Inside, deep down, he knew he would die. But he would die to save others. He would die laughing.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys. I present to you the biggest chapter I have ever wrote so far! I hope you enjoy it. Some of the eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed that several line breaks that represent a new time or location are missing from this chapter. This is not a human error because I have seen this myself but for some reason they refuse to display. Whether this is just on my display or everyone's, I am not sure, but know that I am trying to fix it.**

 **As always, please read and review. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll upload the chapters!**


	9. The Battle of the Bedroom (Part 2)

**Sector 5, Underground City...**

The man exploded in a mist of gore as gauss fire enveloped his body a mere two feet away from the heavy bolter. He died before he even realised he no longer existed. Several Space Marines taking cover around the corner of the ruins also went down, the overwhelming gauss fire damaging their organs faster than their advanced gene-seed could repair them. Soon, only a single Space Marine and two guardsmen were all that remained.

"FALL BACK!" The Governor yelled "FALL BACK!"

The two guardsmen sprinted back down an alleyway, away from the losing firefight and even the Space Marine stomped after them down the alley, occasionally turning and firing a few more bolter rounds down towards the approaching Necrons. The Governor did the same, scoring a few headshots before a lucky round from a collapsing Necron exploded through his calf, driving the Governor down to the ground. The Space Marine turned back and lifted the wounded Governor over his shoulder, holding him in place with one hand while firing his bolter with the other. Another lucky shot from the Necrons hit the Space Marine in the face, half of his helmet melting from the impact as the lens of his left eye popping free from the helmet itself. As soon as his magazine ran dry, he dashed away from the Necrons down the twisting, winding alleyways of the Underground City until he found the two guardsmen gasping for breath. Placing the Governor gently down, he removed his battered helmet and bared his face, the first one to do such since the Space Marines first arrived. The left side of his face was heavily damaged and scarred, most of which from the Necron shot barely moments ago that had ruined his helmet and half-melted the side of his face, his eye swollen and black. The two guardsmen tried not to recoil in fear of his morbidly damaged face.

"Tend to him." The Space Marine spoke, his voice deep and gruff, as he loaded a fresh magazine of bolter shells into his bolter. He then leaned against a corner and kept an eye out, scanning the many streets leading to this point for signs of the enemy. The enemy that was out there... somewhere...

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 3, Sector 4...**

Captain Westfield watched as a streak of green gauss fire flew over the heads of the defenders and smashed into the communications array behind them. The captain doubled over in pain and tore the vox piece from his ear as the feedback hit him, deafeningly loud. Anyone with vox equipment did the same. This was bad. A stray Necron shot had neutralized their communications and made it significantly more difficult to mark targets for strafing runs and artillery bombardment. They would continue to fire but now they ran the risk of friendly fire. In such a decisive battle as this, every man counted, though. Even a single soldier could make all the difference. There was one positive to this battle, however. Because they knew there would be nowhere to run to, not a single man turned tail and fled, spirit broken. They all continued to fight, grim faced and determined. This was the last line of defense. If the enemy broke through here, the artillery would be in danger and the Underground City would be surrounded and cut off. Even now, the captain could hear the reserve troops engaging Necron Wraiths that had infiltrated their lines. He had hoped they would have had the sense to push forward and reinforce this line, but now he was glad they had held back. If the artillery guns were silenced, this battle would be more than just lost.

The captain stepped up to the firing step and looked down the sights of his acquired lasgun again. The Necrons were still lumbering forwards, towards their lines, but now a line of Lychguard moved in the front of their force, shields raised. This was one of the more sensible moves shown by the Necrons today. This advanced guard shielded their main force, but would also be more useful in the close quarters melee combat behind the barricades. This particular line consisted of the best defenses they had: a long defense line punctuated by rockcrete bunkers every 100 yards. Heavy weapon emplacements were scattered all over the line and were both inside and on-top-of the bunkers. The line was bristling with weaponry. What few Leman Russ battle tanks remained sat behind the defense line in various states of repair. Most of the tanks had been lost during the retreat from the second defense line and now lay scattered in no-man's land, many with their tracks or turrets blown off. Smoke poured from almost all if them. Captain Westfield could see several men, some wounded, scattered across no-man's land, looking desperate to make it back to friendly lines, taking cover behind wrecked tanks and other battlefield debris. What worried Captain Westfield most was that now communications were down, their was a massive risk of friendly fire on those troops trapped in no-man's land. He had to do something!

"Cairn!" Captain Westfield called.

"Yes, sir?" The pilot replied, jogging over to the officer.

"Assemble a quick team of 5 men, including you and myself, that are prepared to face enemy fire in a recovery op."

"Yes, sir! I know just the men for this task. I pray they're still alive though..."

* * *

 **Elsewhere...**

"Brother Ezeikel, this is Cypher. We are on approach now. Move to phase two."

"Understood, master." The deep, growling voice of a Deathwing Terminator replied.

Brother Ezeikel was a Deathwing Champion. He wore the traditional bone-white Terminator armour of the Deathwing, but he also wore a deep green tunic over his armour, its hood pulled low over his face. He was gifted, not only physically but also psychically. He was talented with the Warp, allowing him to communicate with his master without the use of standard communications equipment. Being a champion, he also carried the Halberd of Caliban, an ancient relic of Caliban carried only by those worthy of becoming Deathwing Champions. He had killed countless opponents in numerous duels during his life that had lasted centuries. Rumour had it that he had even been there at the fall of Caliban. And though his dueling prowess was unmatchable, he was still a deadly warrior in a battle. He marched forwards now, down the alleys of the Underground City, alone. The great Cypher had given him a task, and he would rather die that fail his master. Though he new that this battle would not be the death of him... It was not yet his time...

"Brothers. With me." he growled as he rounded a corner and found the 4 Deathwing Knights that made up his squad, each warrior as honed and deadly as a dagger, and ready to die in service of their master. The fell in behind him, and the 5 Terminators stomped casually down the dimly lit street, intent on completing their mission.

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 3, Sector 4...**

"Captain Westfield, sir!"

The captain looked around from the commissar he was talking to and saw the pilot named Cairn approaching with 3 other men, each grizzled and covered with blood and dirty.

"These are the men you requested. Each man is brave and has proved in combat. They are ready and capable to do whatever needs to be don, sir!" Cairn declared.

"Good man." The captain replied, loading a fresh power cell into his newly acquired lasgun. "Men! Check your power levels and take any fresh ones you need from inside this bunker. Load up and get ready to follow me!"

The men stocked up what they needed and waited behind a barricade with the captain, out of sight of the enemy. When the order was given, all guardsmen in the sector stepped up to the firing step and fired at the approaching horde. All except the captain and his team. They vaulted the barricade and dashed across no-man's land. They all took cover behind an overturned Leman Russ a few hundred yards from the barricades and the captain gave them a quick brief of their assignment. He had to yell in order to be heard over the din of battle.

"Alright, listen up!" he yelled. "The Necrons have taken out our communications array! Our artillery support and Valkyries are now blind and are just going to keep shelling no-man's land until communications are restored! We have techpriests working on repairs but meanwhile, several of our men are pinned down here and they're in a lot of danger! We're here to pull them out, back to our lines! We're getting desperate and we're going to need every gun we can get on our barricades if we want to survive this! I know I'm asking a lot from you, but I only ask that every man does his duty and does not give in to fear!"

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" One zealous guardsman yelled. The captain smiled.

"For the Emperor." he said back.

With that, the 5 guardsmen dashed out of cover from behind the Leman Russ and scattered across no-man's land, firing their lasguns wildly as they ran. They each spread out and tried to find as many wounded and pinned down soldiers as they could, rescuing who they could, and ending the suffering of those who they could not. It was a hard thing to do, but necessary. It was better to give them the quick, merciful end they desired than to let them suffer in agony until sweet release finally came and they went to the Emperor's side. Then they did the necessary once more and looted the corpses for explosives and ammunition before moving on again. They saved around 50 men before they couldn't find anymore and retreated out of no-man's land back to friendly lines. One young private helped the captain pull a wounded guardsman out from under an upturned Leman Russ that lay across his mid-section. Fortunately, the man was an engineer and in his pack they found jacks that let the slowly raise the destroyed battle tank until they could ease him out from beneath it. They feared that he would have been crushed in half from the weight of the tank, but when they pulled him free, most of the damage to his body only seemed to be superficial. It would definitely be handy to have an engineer in the elite team that Captain Westfield was forming. One of the guardsmen on his team came dashing over to them, but green gauss fire hit his back and he was launched towards them. Fortunately, his armour held and he was shaken, but ok. He reported to the captain that they had done all they could and the rescue operation was complete. Now all they had to do was fall back to friendly lines, a task easier said than done.

* * *

 **Sector 5, Underground City...**

The Governor was in a bad way. He had regained consciousness now, but he was badly wounded and was unable to fight, most likely to the end of the battle or until death finally came and found them. With no communications, they had to assume that the city had fallen. They had no way to know the progress of the battle until communications were restored. Until then, they were blind in the city. The two guardsmen continued to tend to the Governor's wound while the Space Marine maintained watch around a corner.

"We have to find out how the battle fairs." The Governor declared to the Space Marine.

"No." he replied gruffly, "Communications are down, we have to wait until the array has been restored, if it even is being repaired."

"That is not the only way." Governor Anderson said, pushing himself to his feet and forcing the guardsmen to release him. "If we can make it back to Command Post Alpha, the strategic display should still be functional, if we have power. If we can get there, we may be able to see how our men are doing."

The Astartes pondered on this thought for a moment before replying.

"Say we could, Governor Anderson, Command Post Alpha is several streets away. It will be difficult to travel with your wound. We would be slow and vulnerable."

"We could carry him!" One of the guardsmen suggested.

"Very well." The Astartes conceded. "Guardsmen! Carry your Governor. I'll take point. Stay low and stay quiet. It would greatly improve our chances of survival if we avoid any conflict. Lets move out!"

And so the two guardsmen, the wounded Governor Anderson and the noble Astartes dashed from ruin to ruin, cautious of any Necron foes that may happen to cross their path. Building by building, they slowly made their way to Command Post Alpha. When they eventually arrived, they were in for a mighty shock indeed...

* * *

 **No Man's Land...**

"Sir! We have to move, now!"

All around them, explosions rocked the battlefield as another artillery barrage was fired, slamming into the ground and forming craters all around them. With no functioning communications equipment, the artillery teams had no way of knowing that they were now firing on a rescue operation, so they fired with all their force, shelling the battlefield. Above, Valkyries circled, ready for a strafing run to eliminate any remaining resistance. On the ground Captain Westfield's strike force was pinned down from the barrage behind a flaming downed Valkyrie. Captain Westfield was in a daze, unsure of what to do next. If they ran, they would probably die. If they stayed where they were, they would probably die, either from the artillery bombardment or the strafing runs that followed. No matter what, their odds of survival were slim. Captain Westfield was paralysed by fear.

"Sir. Sir! We can't stay here! We have to move!"

Captain Westfield ignored all the begging for orders and just muttered in coherently to himself. He had never been so afraid in his life. He was not scared of dying. He had seen enough death and narrowly escaped his own several times in the past, but what scared him most was the thought of dying to friendly fire. To die cowering instead of gloriously saving his men on the battlefield. He had many traits of an Astartes. He was a Space Marine in all but body and geneseed. He had even received an offer to take part in an experimental program to become a Space Marine scout many years ago, but he refused, preferring to stay with his men.

"Sir! Please! Say something anything!" one of his team begged.

Cairn stepped calmly towards the captain, grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and shook him once. "Pull yourself together, man! You've got men to save!"

An shell struck the ground several feet away from them and small fragments of debris showered over them, pattering on their armour harmlessly. The captain slowly turned to look at Cairn, staring deep into his eyes.

"You're right..." he said, "Let's save these men!"

Both the captain and Cairn smiled as he rallied the men into action.

"Form up on me! On my go, we run for the barricades! We don't stop, we don't slow down! We keep running until we're safe!" Captain Westfield yelled. "Ready? Go!"

* * *

 **Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

Only the Space Marine seemed impassive to the horror before them. Once of the guardsmen was vomiting violently in the corner while the other barely held it in as he held Governor Anderson upright. Even the Governor seemed disturbed by the sight. They had made it to Command Post Alpha with little competition. They had encountered a few small Necron Warrior patrols as they quietly made their way here, but slipped by them rather than engage them. And now that they were here, they wished they hadn't come so they could at least have been spared the sight of all that happened here.

Blood stained the walls red, the patches that were not completely covered were studded with bloody handprints of the dying men. Broken and discarded equipment lined the floors. All around the rooms were the mutilated remains of guardsmen, scribes, servitors and the war council. The head tech-priest lay in a hump in the corner, twitching violently as sparks periodically leapt from his broken augmentations. The Master of Ordinance was sat against the far wall, a huge, gaping hole through his torso and a massive splat of blood on the wall he was slumped against telling them the story of his final moments. His face was still twisted in a surprised and terrified expression, his blank eyes staring lifelessly out for help that never came. Other members of the council were scattered all across the room, all with similar fates. In the center of the room, the holo-display flickered red as it struggled to stay active. The Governor shuffled awkwardly over to the display and pulled the corpse of a guardsmen off the display table. The man dropped unceremoniously to the ground leaving a thick trail of blood across the table. The Governor powered up the holo-display and the symbol of the Imperial Aquila shone in the air, rotating. But it was red and flickered constantly. Low power. The Governor cursed.

"Space Marine. There is a back-up generator in the basement of this facility. The elevator is no-doubt out of service, so you'll have to take the stairs." Governor Anderson said to the towering Space Marine.

The Space Marine nodded silently and determined and began making his way to the doorway that tried to shut but was blocked by another corpse. As the Space Marine forced the door open and stepped carefully over the body, the Governor had another thought and quickly called to the Marine.

"One last thing! Be careful out there... whatever did this may still be lurking in the shadows somewhere..."

The grim-faced Space Marine nodded again and continued on towards the stairs, bolter raised and ready to fire.

Meanwhile, the one guardsmen was still vomiting in the corner, but the other, no longer supporting the Governor, ensured the room was secure and scanned for any hostiles still in the area. Something unusual caught his eye and he leaned in close to investigate.

"Erm... Governor? You may want to see this!"

The Governor shuffled over to the guardsman and crouched as low as he was able to look closely. What Governor saw was a small patch of flooring where the surface of the floor had bubbled and blistered and somewhat melted.

"Very strange..." The Governor pondered. "In all my years, I have never known the Necrons to use acid weaponry..."

"Not that, sir. That!" The guardsman said, pointing at the floor closer to the doorway. He pointed at a streak of blood where somebody had been and had crawled away... or had been dragged.

The guardsman followed the trail out of the door and into a dark storage room, lasgun raised. Governor Anderson followed him, his plasma pistol also primed for firing. The guardsmen stalked along the rows of shelving units, flashlight on as his scanned the floor and the path before him. Eventually, the trail led around a corner and down a line of shelving. The guardsman flicked his lasgun around the corner, ready to fire, but lowered his gun when he saw what was waiting for him.

The Master of Scouts, a man named Odien sat against the wall between shelves, motionless. A dim light shined light down on him and his hands had been clutching his stomach and even now blood oozed between his fingers, thick and red.

"Poor man..." The guardsman said, solemn.

"He was a good man..." The Governor said, "And an even finer friend..."

The pair leapt up in surprise as the man looked up at them, smiling as blood ran down his cheek from a cut above his right eye, forcing him to squint through that eye.

"It's 'bout time you guys showed up!" He coughed, wincing as the movement sent pain rippling across his body.

"Master Odien!" The Governor exclaimed, shocked to see his friend alive. He limped quickly over to him.

"Stand back, sir." The guardsman said, jogging over to the fallen Master of Scouts and shrugging his backpack from his shoulders, rummaging for the medi-kit inside.

"Those bastard Necrons! I'll kill every last one of those fuckers for doing this to you!" The Governor vowed.

A look of confusion crossed Master Odien's face. "Necrons, sir? They weren't responsible for this. They were still on the outskirts of the city when this happened."

"What?" Now Governor Anderson was confused. "Then what did this?"

Through the doorway, alien shrieks and bolter fire echoed.

"That."

* * *

 **No man's land...**

"Go! Go! Go! Keep running!" Captain Westfield screamed at his men, running desperately towards friendly lines.

All around them, shells exploded as they struck the ground and gauss fire raked the air around them as they sprinted. Men stumbled and fell but quickly regained their feet and kept sprinting desperately for their lives. Lasfire flew over their shoulders and hit things behind them, but they were too focused on friendly lines to know or even care about what was happening behind them. Every man was as desperate as the man next to him as their legs pumped faster and faster, edging them closer to safety. As the men dashed up the sides of the barricades, they hurled themselves over the lip and landed awkwardly as the recovered, kissing the barricades in thanks. Despite all the insanity of the mad dash, not a single man did not make it back. Westfield and Cairn had chosen the right men for this assignment. As Captain Westfield lay panting behind the barricades, a familiar face offered a hand to help him to his feet.

"Great work out there, captain. Welcome back to the right side of the barricades!" Commissar Reginald grinned.

"What? Not going to shoot me for running the wrong way?" The captain replied, taking the hand.

Both men laughed at the jest, no bad blood between them. Both men patted the other on the back as they laughed.

"So, how holds the defences?" The captain questioned.

"Good, bad, could be worse. The tech-priests are making progress with the communication array and our line here is holding and holding well."

"Well that's good, but you don't look so excited. What else has happened?"

"Our air-support is running out of fuel and ammo. Our tanks are being whittled down one by one. Artillery is running out of shells. And the city... We heard a lot of gunfire about an hour ago, but its been almost silent for twenty minutes, and more and more Necrons are splitting off from the main force and are entering the city..."

"Shit! Did the council members get out?"

The Commissar shook his head sadly. A young guardsmen cadet jogged over to the two men, praying he wasn't interrupting anything important, he stopping in front of them and made the sign of the Aquila over his chest in salute.

"Sirs." he said.

"Report, cadet." Commissar Reginald demanded.

"Sir, the tech-priests report that the communications array is 98% repaired. We're also down to our last two Valkyries in the air, but they're using the last of the fuel reserves. Our artillery is now down to our very last shells, we only have enough for one final barrage."

"Ok. Sprint back to the artillery crews and tell them to hold fire until the communications to be restored. Now go! Run!" The Commissar ordered, urging the boy on."

"It's not looking good..." Captain Westfield admitted when the cadet had run off.

"We still have one strategy available to us..." The Commissar suggested.

The Captain nodded solemnly in understanding. "Fight to the last man..."

* * *

 **Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

The guardsman had stayed with the Master of Scouts, tending to his grievous wound. Governor Anderson sprinted as fast as he could with his injury after the Space Marine who had gone to restore power. He made his way to the elevator and found more bodies and more gore splattered on the walls. The elevator doors were open but the elevator itself was nowhere to be found. Lights flickered menacingly. The Governor ran to the stairs and found even more bodies littered about. He jogged down the stairs and almost slipped as a slippery pool of congealing blood caught him off-guard. He shook the sudden panic off and continued on, more carefully this time. By the time he reached one of the subterranean levels where the backup generator was stored, he was panting for breath. He made sure his plasma pistol was primed and ready and ensured his power-sword was loose and ready in his scabbard. He made his way silently toward the generator room, finding more bodies and more signs of combat. Some recent. Still no hostile bodies. He approached the generator room cautiously, as the door had been blown off, black char scarring the wall near the hinges. He heard voices, coming from the generator room. He dashed into cover behind the door and silently listened in. A deep, growling voice of a Terminator emanated from within.

"Phase two complete. Orders?" It said.

A muffled voice could faintly be heard replying.

"Understood. Rejoining battle."

The muffled voice replied again.

"You have done well, brother. You have truly proven your worth today. Perhaps one day you will join us." The gruff Terminator said to someone else in the room.

"Thank you, Brother-Champion. I would be honoured to join your ranks." Replied a voice that the Governor recognized. It was the Space Marine that the Governor had sent here!

The Governor heard a very alien hiss in the room and strained his ears to listen in closer.

"What should we do with this one?" The Space Marine said.

"We cannot control it like the others yet. Eliminate it." The gruff Terminator answered.

The creature hissed again before a lot of commotion could be heard within the room. Something scrambled around quickly before something dashed out of the door. It was half-way through the doorway when a power-halberd, an ancient artifact of the Horus Heresy, was planted firmly into the ground, separating the creature's head, from its body. The head rolled several feet before coming to an eventual stop, such was the speed that the beast was moving. The head stopped facing the Governor, making him recoil in shock and disgust. The gene-stealer stared at him with dead, empty eyes. The Governor had no time to question what it was doing hear as he heard footsteps approaching the doorway. He ducked back into the shadows and observed from behind the cover of some heavy pipes. Five Deathwing Knights stomped from the room, all decorated in ancient finery. The leader of them carried the ancient halberd that had beheaded the gene-stealer. Behind them, the Space Marine powered up the emergency generator before following them. The Deathwing Knights marched ahead, but as the Space Marine went through the door, the Governor's personal communicator clicked to life.

"-is Commissar Reginald hailing anyone in the Underground City! We need a status report! Please respond!"

The Space Marine stopped mid-stride and looked straight at the Governor. The Governor stood stock still, but he was convinced that the Space Marine could see him in the shadows with all his gene-enhancements. But the Space Marine stared right at him, unblinking, though he didn't react to him. It looked as though he was looking through him. The Space Marine stared a few seconds longer, before dismissing whatever he saw with a shrug and jogging back towards the stairs. The Governor let out a sigh of relief before jogging after the Marine, powered by pure adrenaline. He couldn't be beaten back to the Master of Scouts. They mustn't know what he heard and saw. He ran back to the stairs before hesitating and thinking. He had a faster idea. He dashed to the elevator, readying the grappling hook on his wrist.

* * *

Brother Leo, the Space Marine who had been sent by the Governor to restore power dashed back to the command room, eager to beat the Governor. If he was correct in what he saw, beating the Governor would be all he needed to prove it, and he had no doubt that Brother-Champion Ezeikel would execute the Governor and promote him to the ranks of the Deathwing for bringing the Governor under arrest. He burst into the Command Room and grinned broadly at what he saw. Nothing had changed in here, except that the rotating symbol of the Aquila was no longer red, but a deep blue as the command interface now had sufficient power. The Governor was not here yet. But Brother Leo's toothy grin turned to a confused scowl as he realized that no-one was here. Where did the two guardsmen go?

"Sir! Over here!"

Brother Leo pivoted and saw one of the guardsmen behind, beckoning him to follow. He marched over to the guardsman, who strolled into a nearby storage room and inside, he saw the other guardsman crouched over someone clearly of high rank. Stood nearby, the Governor leant against the wall casually, smiling at him.

"It is good to see you!" he declared, jovially. "I trust this means we have power again?"

Brother Leo nodded, frustrated. "Governor Anderson. Care to tell me why your heart beat is exceeding its normal resting rate?" He inquired, grinning again as he was confident that he had caught the Governor out.

"I am overjoyed!" The Governor smirked. "We found a survivor! A friend!"

"Then he should know what caused this." Brother Leo answered back, gritting his teeth.

"I haven't the foggiest idea!" The Master of Scouts replied, his smirk matching the Governor's.

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 3, Sector 4...**

"Sir! Communications have been restored!" Declared a conscript, overjoyed.

"Excellent! Now get your sorry ass back on that barricade! We need every gun pointed that way! Don't make me waste a shot on your sorry self." Commissar Reginald barked.

The intimidated conscript nervously dashed back to his spot and set himself back up on the firing step, opening fire once more. Many guardsmen were now out of power-packs for their lasguns, so relied on the smaller power-packs in their laspistols to dispatch the enemy. Ammunition was dwindling and many men were dead or dying. The field hospitals were overflowing with wounded troops and the medics and nurses could barely keep up with those coming in, the medical supplies also starting to shrink. Things were beginning to look hopeless and everyone knew it.

"Commissar," Captain Westfield asked. "Perhaps now we have communications, we should see if we can contact the council or anyone in the city. We need to establish contact with anyone still fighting in the city. We need to know if it has indeed fallen."

"Good idea. I'll broadcast it to an open channel." The Commissar replied, placing a finger to the small vox unit in his ear. "This is Commissar Reginald hailing anyone in the Underground City! We need a status report! Please respond!"

He waited several seconds, but only static replied to him. Nothing. He looked sadly at Captain Westfield, shaking his head in regret. The battle was certainly going ill for them now. Both men shook hands and made the imperial salute before joining the last of their men on the firing step. They were ready and committed to selling themselves dearly in service of the immortal Emperor.

* * *

 **Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

"By the Emperor..." Governor Anderson declared, astonished.

He had rebooted the command interface and everyone was shaken by what they saw. The geo-map was swamped by a sea of red. There was a small line of friendlies behind the defence lines: the artillery. And several pockets of friendlies were scattered haphazardly throughout the city and along the rear-most defence line. Had their defenses really been worn that thin?

"It seems so hopeless..." One of the guardsmen muttered.

"Wait. What's this?" The other said, walking curiously over to the far side of the table, to where the simulated 'window' was placed. "Fifteen unknowns. Medium size. Closing fast!"

* * *

 **Imperial Defense Line 3, Sector 4...**

"Die! Bastards!" Commissar Reginald yelled at the top of his lungs, firing into the Necron horde with his plasma pistol while standing atop the remains of the barricades.

Below him, Captain Westfield also stood on the barricade and fired his laspistol, slashing award at any that came too close with his ceremonial sabre. All around them, Necrons mindlessly advanced towards them, ready to strike them down.

"For the Emperor!" Both officers chorused.

They were seconds away from being struck down when a high pitched whine filled the air from behind them.

"What in the Warp...?"

Flying through the window at lightning fast speeds came a formation of fifteen landspeeders, all holding Dark Angel symbols. They dived quickly towards the ground before dropping melta bombs attached to their undersides onto the Necron army. Holes opened throughout the Necron force as Necrons were sent flying into the air or disintegrated completely from the bombs. After the initial firepower of the melta bombs, the landspeeders circled back around and flew low as the additional crew leapt off, into the bombarded Necron force. Fallen Space Marines fired bolters seemingly wildly, but every shot hit a Necron in the head. The revving of chainswords spelled the end of the Necrons as they were torn limb from limb in a flurry of sparks. Only one Fallen Space Marine did not use his blade. Only one. Cypher charged forwards, leading a squad of hooded veterans, the same veterans he had arrived with, and fired his plasma pistol and bolt-pistol with pinpoint accuracy. The mysterious blade on his back has never been seen unsheathed, and he kept up that streak even now. Necrons died in droves as the brutal assault by the Fallen reinforcements completely turned the tide of the battle in an instant. It took mere minutes for the Necron force to be desimated and they were forced into retreat. It wasn't long before only a single Necron remained: an Overlord. He charged against the new battleline, not willing to surrender.

He dashed forwards with a high-pitch cry of "Charge!" before a colossal shadow fell over him. He looked up as a giant foot came crashing down on him, removing him from existence.

"What did I miss?" The titan known as Tom asked, grinning broadly.

* * *

I smiled, but I was horrified. My room was a mess! Litered with corpses, both human and alien, and scorch marks from all kinds of heavy weaponry. I hated cleaning my room normally, but this was getting ridiculous!

"And I thought I said NO WEAPONS THAT BURN!" I smirked.

"True... but you also said that it was ok as a last resort..." Captain Westfield yelled up at me, meekly.

I liked that one...

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry for how long this took. I've finally decided on a plot-line for this fic, so I know what I'm writing from here on out :-P I hope y'all enjoyed this battle. It was a lot of fun to write. Expect more soon. As always, the more reviews a fic gets, the higher priority it gets for me writing it. If you let me know how much you're enjoying the fic, or if there is something I can work on and improve, the fic will improve and will probably be released sooner. Thank you all so much for the support so far though. It means so much to me. See you all next time!**


	10. Clean-up

**Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

The servitors worked tirelessly, scrubbing and cleaning the walls, floors and ceilings. But despite the multiple cleaning products and sterile smell in the air, underneath, the stench of death could still be smelt. Several guardsmen acting as the new honour guard, the old ones having been slaughtered during the battle, wrinkled their noses in disgust at the smell. Around the holo-display, the new war council were stood, assessing the progress of the clean-up operation. Of the original council, only the Governor, Commissar Reginald and the Master of Scouts survived. Now, a new techpriest had been promoted to represent them at the council, and a new artillery-man had been promoted to the Master of Ordinance. Captain Westfield was also present at the council, as the giant Tom's representative. His arm was in a sling as it had been broken in the dying moments of the battle when a Necron Lychguard made to run him through, and the captain barely managed to block the blow away. The Master of Scouts was also injured at the council, rolling around the table in a wheelchair which he had been confined to. Also present was a Space Marine named Brother Leo, who had assisted the Governor in the battle. As the only Space Marine besides Cypher to show their face, he was elected as their representative in the war council, though Governor Anderson believe he was more their to report anything suspicious to Cypher. Governor Anderson no longer trusted his so-called 'allies,' but he had no choice but to work with them as they were instrumental to their victory in the battle. Fresh reports streamed in on the holo-display, detailing various data on supplies, manpower and repair status. The last few separated groups of Necron warriors were being rounded up and eliminated in the Underground City and the medics and nurses were slowly catching up with the numbers of wounded and were managing the dwindling medical supplies very efficiently. They were doing a commendable effort.

"Sir, my tech-priests report that we are... 63% through the wounded soldiers. Also, all vital structure are... 79% repaired" The new head Tech-priest reported, his voice monotone and droning.

"Thank you, Tech-priest." The Governor acknowledged. The Tech-priest nodded in respect. "Now then, we must deduce where these Necrons came from and how they were able to amass a force of such size and power without our knowledge."

Captain Westfield stepped up to the holo-display and Master Odien rolled up beside him as the captain delivered their report.

"Master Odien's scouts are working closely with Tom to ascertain the location that these Necrons came from. As of yet, we have found nothing. It is as if they simply... appeared!"

This raised several eyebrows.

"What? They were simply not there, and then suddenly they were?" The new Master of Ordinance scoffed, still unsure of the procedure at the war council.

"Until we find any evidence to the contrary, yes." The captain replied, evenly.

Master Odien raised a finger to the vox piece in his ear and listened closely as his scouts delivered a fresh report. He acknowledged the report before addressing the council.

"It would seem we have company." He said, "Another giant has arrived, a friend of Tom's. And he has brought some representatives of his own..."

* * *

"Greetings, Mon-keigh..."

Every member of the council reached for their weapons.

"What the fuck is this?!" Commissar Reginald yelled.

"My name is Farseerer Tanhith. And if you try to use those weapons, I will kill you all before you took one step." She remarked haughtily.

"Peace!" Master Odien exclaimed. "You're here on a diplomatic meeting. Don't out-stay your welcome, space elf. We like you less than you like us, but lets not let this come to blows."

"At last, a Mon-keigh who knows his place..." She stated with a sly grin.

Captain Westfield's grip tightened on his sabre in anger, but he suppressed his emotions. "What is your purpose here?"

"Simple. My Mon-keigh pet came to help his friend, the one you call Tom, clean up after your mess of a battle. I saw this as a chance to inspect how you were fairing. Apparently, slums are suitable enough for you..."

"Pet?" Captain Westfield raised an eyebrow. "I'm beginning to understand why your kind gave birth to Slaanesh..."

Farseerer Tanhith's face contorted with rage. "How DARE you insult us! You primitive Mon-keigh are not even worthy of our dark cousins slave pits!"

Everyone drew their weapons again.

'Well shit...' Governor Anderson thought, face-palming.

"My thoughts exactly, Mon-keigh." She replied to his unspoken comment. Damn mind readers...

"Enough of this!" Master Odien yelled. "You are here for diplomatic purposes, space elf. Our kind hates your kind more than you hate us. Do not out-stay your welcome. I was informed you had some intel that would be of interest to us?"

Farseer Tanhith lowered her Singing Spear before addressing the Master of Scouts. "Yes. I trust the renegade Space Wolves company was formerly accommodated with you?"

"Aye." The Governor admitted regretfully.

"Well they recently attempted an assault on our residence. They were dreadfully unorganized however, and they were repelled easily enough. We even managed to capture one alive." She smirked.

"What?! You must hand over this prisoner at once!" Brother Leo demanded, speaking for the first time throughout the meeting.

Farseer Tanhith eyed the Space Marine up and down, observing him.

"You seem rather eager..." She grinned. "Something you're not telling us... Leo, was it?"

"Your damned mind-tricks will not work on me, she elf." He stated flatly.

"Perhaps. I would quite like to see what horrible little secrets you have locked away in your mind..." She smiled teasingly.

"Ok, enough! We aren't going to get anywhere with this back and forth banter. We have to come to a unanimous decision." Captain Westfield sighed. "Farseer, we want a prisoner that you have. What would you like in return? I propose a fair trade deal."

"I like the way you think... for a Mon-keigh, anyway" She grinned in amusement. "I would like to be given permission to establish an Eldar embassy here, along with a small military presence. I would also like to choose a representative to give my people a voice on your little council that you have here..."

"You ask a lot..." Governor Anderson sighed. "A military presence of your kind would certainly make my people uneasy around them. And an Eldar who could spy on our intimate meetings discussing top secret information...?"

"You have my word, Governor, that any and all Eldar stationed here would respect your practices and will not act aggressively towards your people. And we have no intention of fighting another war with you. This is a new universe, a new world. A fresh chance for our species to start again. A chance for peace."

"Impossible!" The young Master of Odinance declared. "The Inquisition demands that we suffer not the xeno-"

"The Inquisition is not here..." Governor Anderson cut him off. "War would not be beneficial at this time. I propose we agree on one additional condition."

"Name it." Farseer demanded politely

"Your people assist our clean-up and rebuild operation that we currently have underway."

"Deal!"

"Everyone else agree?" Governor Anderson asked the council.

They all responded with slow, begrudging nods.

"It seems our hands are tied." Captain Westfield remarked.

"Indeed." Farseer Tanhith replied. "Now then, I take my leave. I will begin the construction of a webway gate immediately."

"We did not agree to such a thing!" Commissar Reginald yelled. He rose, but the Captain placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him.

"Think about the giants. Tom said we are not to be seen to be alive. A webway gate would allow Eldar helpers to arrive here not only quickly, but also discreetly."

"Eldar workers or an Eldar attack force?!"

"Commissar. I understand your doubt, but we must allow it. And I am certain the Farseer would allow us to maintain a security checkpoint at the gate?" Captain Westfield suggested, looking over at the Farseer.

She nodded. "Certainly. For your peace of mind. We have no ill intentions for you." She shared a glance at Brother Leo.

"Very well..." Commissar Reginald accepted after some hesitation.

"Now then." Farseer Tanhith nodded, making to leave the room, stopping in front of one of the guardsmen honour guards. She examined him before turning back to the council in disgust. "Why is it our presence always raises weapons or dicks?"

The guard in question flushed bright red, shifting his lasgun to cover his crotch area. The Farseer turned on her heels and marched gracefully from the room. The guardsmen could not help himself and he stared at her as she strolled down the hallway.

* * *

 **My room, The house...**

"So dude, what's with you and that Farseer? Last time I saw you, you were totally her bitch!" I asked my best friend.

"Dude... she reads minds! I'm a teenage guy! Put them together and you have a hell of a problem!"

"But dude, you have a girlfriend!"

"That's the biggest problem! She knows everything about us now!"

"Oh... shit..."

"Exactly!"

"Well it isn't a Toyhammer fic without a sexy-as-hell Farseer and all the shenannigans that come with it!" I laughed, but Chad placed a hand over my mouth.

"We can't talk about that here!" He whispered.

* * *

 **Residential Block C, Underground City...**

 **Several hours later...**

"Captain!" You wanted to speak to us?" Cairn said as he and the others in Captain Westfield's rescue squad entered the captain's personal quarters.

The room was very Spartan, containing only basic items for survival. In the corner was a simple bio-cotton bed, neatly made and presentable. Against the far wall was a plain kitchen unit comprising of an electro-stove, a small countertop and a cryo-fridge. Behind a screen wall was a basic toilet and sink, with a open-cupboard with single toothbrush and some cleaning products. By the bed was a small chest, presumably holding some sentimental objects, and nearby was a bookshelf with a small collection of dataslates stacked neatly inside. The only the other furniture was a plasteel table and chair set where the captain could eat his meals. The captain was currently sat in the chair, flipping through reports on a dataslate. Upon seeing the guardsmen arrive, he deactivated the dataslate and tossed it across to the room, where it landed softly on his bed.

"Ah, Cairn and the rest of my little rescue operation. It is good to see you all." He said.

"What is this about, sir?" Cairn asked him.

"No 'sirs,' Cairn. This one is off-the-books. I called you all here firstly because I wanted to congratulate you on your bravery and courage, as well as a thank you for assisting me on a small operation that many would have called suicide. But there is another reason..." Captain Westfield commented, trailing off into thought.

"What?" One of the men asked.

"I am making this into a formal team, though it will not be official. I plan on using this team as a tool to carry out several small black operations. High-risk. Very dangerous if we get caught. But not a word leaves this room. You have all already displayed your courage and honour and there will be no shame in leaving now. If this plan is not for you, please leave now, and we will speak no more of this."

No one even moved.

"Good. Now you all know the risks. You may drop out at anytime, with no consequences. All I ask is that the existence of this group remains secret. Now our first operation is simply observation. I want us to observe the Eldar emissaries and workers. We cannot yet ascertain their motives, yet they preach peace. We just need to get an idea of their intentions. For now, we just have to watch and wait. Understood? Everyone clear on that?"

The team snapped to attention. As one, they yelled "Sir! Yes, sir!"

Captain Westfield sighed. "We will be Reaper Squad. Just try not to get caught..."

* * *

 **Sector 5, Underground City...**

"Are you quite sure?"

"Definitely, sir. They have made no indication that they of our plans as of yet. It seems we are safe for now. Though I worry that the Farseer may be on to us."

"She is of no threat to us. She will be dealt with in time, I assure you."

"Yes, sir... But still, the council seem troubled at your disappearance for the duration of the battle. They are also beginning to question if we have another base set up somewhere. Especially now they know we have vehicles."

"Do they know of the store?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Say nothing for now. If they ask, simply state that we put out a call on a closed channel, calling for reinforcements for the battle."

"Understood, sir."

* * *

 **The Living Room, The House...**

I slumped on the sofa, putting my feet on the table. My mom would totally kill me if she caught me doing this. But I was too tired to care. Man, cleaning was hard... My friend Chad did the same. We both sighed out of exhaustion. Teenagers were not meant for this kind of manual labour...

"So... how's college going?" I asked him on a whim.

He sighed again. "Alright, I guess. It certainly makes things interesting to come home to some futuristic space elves. Especially when they build shit all over my house and I have to tell them to tear them down in case my parents find out."

"Tell me about it. I just told them on their first day to stay in my room unless I give them permission, and to just act like models if anyone except me comes home."

"Yeah, but you don't have some queen-like Farseer commanding _you_ around." He laughed, before clutching his head in agony. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" He yelled, making the pain cease.

"The Farseer I presume?" I asked.

"Of course... I hate mind-readers..."

"Truth..."

"So how's 6th Form?" He asked, eager to move on to something that could be considered normal.

"It's ok. Dead boring though. And while you're doing one course, I'm doing four!"

"Damn, dude..."

"Yeah..."

I realised that this was the first normal conversation we had had since this all happened. In a way, it was kind of refreshing. It felt like I was back in my comfort zone. I missed this. And then I was torn out of my thoughts as I saw several Cadian scouts climbing out the open living room window. I let them be for now. They were probably just looking for the source of the Necron forces that had been assaulting us recently. We could only hope that the last attack had depleted their numbers enough for them to rest for a longtime before the next attack, giving us time to rest and repair in preparation for the next assault. I knew, deep down, that this was far from over.

* * *

 **Sector Bravo-Kilo, The Great Jungle...**

Two Cadian scout squads trekked slowly and carefully through the massive grass stalks of the great jungle. Each and every one of them had their sniper rifles loaded and ready. Their camouflage cloaks swayed gently on the breeze, the movement only further hiding them in the jungle. They had climbed out of an open window in the 'living room' and had dashed to the jungle. Now they were slowly making their way across the jungle, searching for... something.

"This is a stupid assignment anyway. I mean... what are we even doing out here?" One of them asked.

"Searching for xenos to capture." His sergeant answered without looking back at the scout.

"Pffft... What a ridiculous thing to be asked to do! Who gave us this operation anyway?" The bored scout asked again.

"Someone well above our pay-grade." The sergeant replied, gritting his teeth in frustration at the persistent questions.

"You don't know, do you, sir?"

The sergeant hesitated, sighed and replied.

"No... I don't. But what I do know is that my rifle is gonna be up your ass if you ask anymore questions!"

The scout went silent and all his squadmates grinned amongst each other.

"Hold up." The sergeant said suddenly, raising a clenched fist to signal a 'halt.'

He pushed some oversized grass-stalks aside and found himself peering into a clearing.

"What is it, sir? What do you see?" A scout asked.

"Blood. A lot of it. Seems old." He replied.

The sergeant moved into the clearing and crouched, examining the blood that was splattered in large amounts across the entire clearing. Whatever happened here was a massacre. The blood had long since congealed and dried.

"How old?" The scout asked.

"Old enough to be consistent with Operation Hidden Assailant." The sergeant answered back.

"Operation Hidden Assailant, sir?"

"The ten-man scout squad that was sent out here shortly after Operation Intrepid Explorer. They all went missing in this sector. No bodies were ever found."

Several scouts gulped in nervous fear.

"We could be on to something big, men. Everyone form up on me. Griggs, call this in and make sure the other team knows what we've found. We're following this blood trail."

* * *

In the dense stalks of the giant jungle, yellow eyes watched as more prey fell into its trap. The brood was eating well lately. Acidic saliva dripped in lumps from its hungering jaw. It was looking forward to this meal... The Cadian scouts were in for a big surprise. It was certain that this catch would please its master...

* * *

 **Author's Note: Another chapter for you all! Thank you all so much for the support in the last chapter. It really motivates me to keep these chapters coming as fast as I can write them!**

 **A special thanks to KaytheGreat, Invader Viceroy, murciamatthewx and shadow for their support in the last chapter. And thanks to the un-named guest who also reviewed the last chapter.**

 **For a shoutout in the next chapter, all you have to do is review the story, or message me in pm. And if you want your own character in this fic, message me about it and I will see what I can do.**

 **Thanks again and prepare for the next chapter, coming soon...**


	11. Trust No-one

**The Eldar Quarter, Underground City...**

Eldar Guardians paced up and down the walls boxing them inside their assigned sector of the Underground City, while others stood guard at the few entrances to their sector. With careful diplomacy, the Governor had managed to make several arrangements with the Farseer who led their people, one such arrangement being the very limited number of armed Eldar permitted within the city. And rather than have a mis-match of building structures within the city, the Eldar were not permitted to building their own constructions within the city limits, or outside without Tom's permission, yet Bonesingers were still allowed within the city. The Eldar felt nervous around the guardsmen, and the guardsmen felt nervous around the Eldar. Tensions were high. Both sides were looking for the smallest hint of betrayal. Any excuse to act.

The Eldar's Webway gate was located beneath the television on the dresser opposite the bottom of the bed and stationed around it was a squad of elite Tempestus Scions would worked on eight hour rotatory shifts so the gate was always guarded at all points of the day. Anyone or anything that came through the gate was immediately put under observation from the guards and they were assessed and searched before they could enter the territory. The humans were taking no chances. Right now, Tom was working at his part-time job, and the Farseer was meditating in her quarters. Her permanent residence was still at Chad's house, but she was overseeing the operation at this side of the gate for a while, and she promised to return here regularly. But for now, she sat in the middle of her quarters and breathed peacefully, opening her mind and pondering on the future.

She opened one eye as a minuscule movement desturbed the air around her. She glanced around but saw nothing. Another movement behind her. She calmly sighed and, pretending that she simply couldn't focus and walked over to her bed. She made to lie down, but grabbed her Singing Spear and flicked herself around in a wide, flowing movement that allowed her spear to carry her around to face behind her. She landed on her feet and scanned left to right, looking for movement. She spun her spear around in several quick moves to hopefully throw off her opponent. She held the spear behind her arm, speartip up and strutted over to the centre of the room where she lowered herself into a ready stance. She sensed no more movement. She closed her eyes and blocked out the room, the air around her, and the present itself. Instead, she focused on the future.

Her eyes shot open and she spun around and brought her spear up in an overhead block, holding both ends of the spear in her delicate hands. Sparks flew as a master-crafted sabre connected with the spear-shaft. She angled the spear to use the momentum of the blow to drive the sabre into the ground, and brought her knee up and felt it connect with the face of her would-be attacker. He stumbled backwards from the blow and took several steps to recover, just in time to see the Farseer leap into the air, bringing her spear up to stab down at him. He rolled desperately out of the way and flipped to his feet, sabre ready. The Farseer came at him with a flurry of thrusts and slashes with her spear, which he swiftly dodged or knocked aside with his sabre, each blow coming closer and closer to ending him. Farseer Tanhith slashed at his chest, and he countered with his own slash. Sparks flew again as the weapons locked together and the two combatants stared at each other across their blades. The pushed hard against each other and were both launched backwards, landing gracefully on their feet. They continued to stare at each other, panting slightly, their weapons slightly lowered. The assailant began to laugh and the Farseer started to join him in laughing.

"Took you long enough. Your technique is starting to falter, though." She joked.

"We'll it took you long enough to notice me." He retorted joyfully.

They both lowered their weapons and grasped each other in a close embrace. The Eldar Ranger had been on his assignment for quite some time and the Farseer had missed him greatly. Likewise, he had missed her too. The two had definitely grown close over their time working together.

"I trust you have completed your assignment?" She asked him as they broke the embrace.

"Of course! Have I ever failed you?" He laughed.

"Obviously not, else I would have chosen someone else for this task." She replied. "So, what are your findings?"

"The one they call 'Cypher' is here. And he is planning something, but as of yet, I have no idea what that something is."

"And the council members?"

"The Governor is hiding something is as well, though I don't think it concerns us. And the captain seems to be speaking with the giant that lives here for most of the day. It seems they are close. I think the giant sees something of himself in the captain."

"Good... And the Commissar? What about him?"

"Something _huge_ is happening with him! He is the most scheming of them all!"

"What?! What is he up to?!" She asked, suddenly exasperated.

"He hasn't killed a _single_ person since he got here! What is he up to?"

The Farseer burst out with laughter and shoved the Ranger hard in the shoulder. They both laughed for several minutes.

"Now, my lady, I must leave. The mon-keigh don't know that I'm here and I'd prefer to keep it that way. You're under a lot of surveillance for the moment, though sneaking in was no problem for me."

"Goodbye, my love..." She sighed sadly. She kissed him and he left once again, sad that he had to go.

* * *

"By the Emperor... I have to inform the captain about this!" The guardsmen from Team Reaper whispered to himself as he spied on the meeting between the Ranger and Farseer.

"No, you don't..." A voice whispered behind him.

Before the guardsmen could even gasp in shock, a huge combat knife pierced his throat. He choked and rasped as blood spurted forwards out of him like a crimson fountain. He lost so much blood before his choking stopped and he collapsed forward into a pool of his own blood, rapidly expanding around him.

* * *

 **The Living Room, The House...**

 **Several hours later...**

I came home from work as usually but as I dropped my bag in the kitchen, I heard the smallest commotion coming from the living room. So of course I wandered in to see what was going on. Stood there, on the coffee table, with weapons drawn and voices raised, were Space Marines, Guardsmen and Eldar. Great... Just what I needed.

"It is a clear xenophobic insult that you blame us with no evidence to suggest such!" I heard the Farseer scream at the top of her lungs.

"One of our men was killed in your section of the city! That is evidence enough!" The Governor yelled back.

"What was he doing in our sector anyway?!" A Banshee howled.

"We have a right to maintain surveillance on potential threats! You are _our_ guests after all!" The captain shouted.

"On my personal quarters! You perverts!" The Farseer shrieked.

"The point remains that your kind have killed a human, and you have yet to uphold your end of the bargain!" A Space Marine exclaimed.

The mysterious and hooded Cypher remained silent, though his hands were on his pistols.

"ENOUGH! ALL OF YOU!" I boomed.

The all went immediately silent and stared up at me with a mixture of exhaustion, fear and stress. Clearly they had been at this for some time before I got here. What were they arguing about now?

"Ok, now there's so peace, someone tell me what has happened."

They all starting complaining to me all at once so I brought my hand down on the table, hard.

"Some _one..."_ I stressed. I pointed at the captain. "You."

"Favouritism..." The Farseer muttered under her breath.

"Well sir," he started. "A guardsmen corpse was found in the Eldar sector of the city. Cause of death was a bladed weapon to the back of the neck, and his attacker had enough strength to drive the weapon all the way through and then pull it free again. With such... graceful bladed weapons, and the location of his death, we find it reasonable to assume that one of the Eldar were responsible."

"Right..." I said. "Now you. What's your version?" I asked, pointing to the Farseer.

"You... you want my version?" She asked, genuinely surprised. "You don't trust your fellow Terranians?"

"It's not that. It's that if we want to truly know who's responsible, we have to know all sides of the story. It's not fair otherwise."

"You may just be the wisest mon-keigh I have ever had the misfortune of meeting..."

"Thanks?" I replied, unsure if it was an insult or a compliment.

"Now, here's what happened. I was meditating in my personal quarters and I heard a sound outside. I sent some of my guards to investigate and they found the mon-keigh, facedown and dead, the blood still expanding around him. Not wanting to test the already strained relations between my people and yours, I informed the council immediately about what my men had found. And now the mon-keigh blame us for the crime! If we carried out the crime, we would not inform them that one of theirs is dead. We would hide the body and deny it. They couldn't complain to you because we would simply question what a mon-keigh was doing in our sector without permission. It would make no sense for us to reveal the body if we were guilty!"

"All valid and fair points..." I admitted and thought. "But meditating... alone? While that makes sense, something is making me believe that you aren't telling us everything, Farseer."

"I was alone..." I heard her voice said, though he lips did not move. "The meditating session was... personal..." She spoke into my mind.

I flushed bright red.

"Ah... never mind actually. Look, right now, it is impossible to tell who is guilty and who is innocent. But pointing weapons and placing blame won't help anyone. We have to work together to solve this mystery. We will only further hurt the investigation if we fight amongst each other. Is it so much to ask that you put aside your differences and age-old rivalries and work together for the greater good?"

As one, they all shifted from pointing their weapons at each other to pointing their weapons at me.

"He's a Tau!" Someone yelled.

"Why would I have posters of the blessed Emperor of mankind and heroes of the Imperium if I'm secretly a blue guy with a weird fish-fetish?!" I asked them, getting slightly nervous.

They all looked around at each other and shrugged, satisfied at my reasoning and fairly accurate depiction of typical Tau. They lowered their weapons at looked suspiciously at each other. Why was so many weird things happening lately? Corrupt Space Wolves, mysterious hooded Space Marines, magically appearing undead robots, and now a murder mystery. Oh, and mine and my friend's models coming to life. How could I forget? The novelty was wearing off, fast. So far, only one rule was certain with these guys: trust no-one.

* * *

 **Sector 5, Underground City...**

"How very intriguing... I never planned for this... How very intriguing indeed..." Cypher muttered to himself.

"Does this change our plan, sir?" The towering Brother-Champion Ezeikel asked his master.

"No. We stick with the original plan. We may just have to speed things up to get things moving faster than we had originally allowed for. Send more men in to spy for us... and double the watch! Being in this universe is getting more and more interesting by the day..."

* * *

 **Eldar Quarter, Underground City...**

"You are all the finest of the aspects that are here. And each of you is ideally suited to the different tasks I have for you. We cannot allow the mon-keigh to continue to believe they are superior to us! We must show them the strength of Kaine and show that we will not roll over and die quietly. We will fight back against those that oppose us! We will be victorious! But now is not the time for reckless actions. Not yet. First we must be sensible. We must be discreet. Now is the time for covert action! That is how we must fight! We must find and expose those that seek to ruin our relations!" Farseer Tanhith declared, gaining a combat-ready cheer from each of the different commanders that surrounded her. Let there be war!

* * *

 **Command Post Alpha, Underground City...**

"Gentlemen," Governor Anderson started addressing his small council, "It would seem that the Eldar do indeed have ill intentions towards us, and we must address that issue!"

"Or perhaps, the Fallen are the true culprits of the crime?" Captain Westfield suggested, much to the surprise of the others gathered there.

"It is heresy to even assume that the noble Astartes would turn from the Emperor's eternal light. Watch your tongue, captain." The head tech-priest droned.

"It has happened before!" Captain Westfield countered. "Let's be honest, we know very little about the Astartes stationed here and they keep very much to themselves. And if you ask me, they seem far too eager to get the Space Wolf prisoner that the Eldar hold. It seems to me, they are hiding something."

"I agree with the captain." Commissar Reginald put in. "While the Eldar do indeed seem guilty thus far, I do agree that the Fallen are hiding secrets. The Eldar witch saw it herself."

"But how do we know the Eldar aren't just trying to pit us against each other before they finish us off themselves?" The Master of Scouts asked.

"Yeah. That is the kind of thing they would do." The new Master of Ordinance agreed.

"The point remains!" Governor Anderson cut them off. "That right now, we have to be carefully of who we trust. Until we know otherwise, assume everyone is working against us."

"Agreed!" The others chorused.

* * *

 **The Webway Gate, The Dresser...**

A handful new bonesingers strolled peacefully out of the Webway and looked around them at the new world as they entered, only for Tempestus Scions to dive on them and wrestle them roughly to the ground. The bonesingers were swiftly restrained and thrown into a dark container where the doors were swung and bolted shut from outside. A nearby crane lifted them up to the top of the shelves, in the hangar. Once lifted up there, another squad of Scions unlocked the container and forced the occupants back outside where they were forced into a dimly lit industrial complex and were forced into individual rooms where they were tied to a chair.

"What is the meaning of this!" One bonesinger asked, aghast.

His reply came in the form of a fist smashing into the side of his face, jerking his head to the right and cracking his jaw. The bonesinger made to yell in pain but his interrogator forced a dirty, old rag into his mouth, muffling the scream. The interrogator walked away and over to a nearby table where an assortment of torture equipment was neatly laid out. He selected a small scalpel and waltzed menacingly over to the bonesinger. The bonesinger's eyes went wide with fear as he eyed the medical tool-gone-weapon. He shrieked into the gag and shook violently against his restraints.

"Sh, sh, sh, sh..." His interrogator hushed. "Don't worry now... This won't hurt a bit... Now here's what's going to happen. Either I'm going to slice you up slowly and painfully, or you are going to tell me everything I want to know. Get it?"

The bonesinger nodded sadly.

"Good boy..." The interrogator cooed.

The calming voice of the interrogator was ruined as an ear-splitting scream pierced the air. But it ended as suddenly as it started with a malicious crunch. The interrogator looked at the door, where the scream had come from, before looking back at his bonesinger, grinning broadly.

"Get it?" he repeated.

* * *

 **The Plaza, Underground City...**

"Master Cypher." An Eldar Warlock called out.

Cypher, who was chatting with a squad of his veterans, turned around, curious as to why this Eldar saw fit to disturb him.

"I have a gift for you.." The Warlock explained, gesturing behind him.

Behind the Warlock, several Howling Banshees wrestled with a feral Space Wolf Blood Claw in chains. The Astartes' hair was a bright ginger-red and his teeth had been filed to fangs. Drool slobbered from his lips as he pulled aggressively against his restraints. He still wore the colours and heraldry of the Space Wolves, and not a single mark of Chaos defiled his power armour. How intriguing. He bore no mark of Chaos, but his heresy was evident in the crimes his chapter had committed here. Cypher's veterans took hold of the Space Wolf's restraints and Cypher inclined his head slightly in a bow of thanks to the Warlock.

"Thank you." He said. "You're gift is received gratefully by us. Tell your mistress that we are now happy, and we look forward to more business together."

"Do not mistake this for us liking your kind or considering trafficking. We are not your allies and we are not our dark cousins. We do not normally deal in slaves." The Warlock announced, pointing his finger warningly at the leader of the Fallen.

"We know." Cypher grinned.

So far, his plan was working, despite a few setbacks...


	12. Happy Birthday

**6th Form, The School...**

"And so we can look to Siffre's cave study to assess the existence of circadian rhythms within our brains..." My psychology teacher droned on and on throughout the lesson and everyone in the class fought back the urge to sleep as boredom consumed us. Inside my bag, even the small guardsmen squad and the even smaller contingent of Eldar Rangers walked around aimlessly, hands in pockets, kicking small crumbs around. I saw one particular guardsmen lying down with his cap pulled low over his eyes, napping. Other than that, it seemed they were staying fairly civil, chatting amongst each other. It was good to see that the guardsmen and Eldar were bonding and were now comfortable around each other. It had been three days since the murder in the Eldar Sector, and I was told the investigation was going well. It seemed the guardsmen and the Eldar were cooperating and working well together, though the mysterious Fallen seemed to want to stay out of the investigation. Whether it was an admission of guilt or just them viewing it as not concerning them, I did not know. But for now, they simply watched from the sidelines. In all honesty, I didn't care. I was only focusing on where the traitorous Space Wolves could be and fighting the urge to nap in this lesson. I glanced down at my watch and looked at the time.

"Urgh... 45 minutes of the lesson left..." I sighed.

Our lessons were only 50 minutes long total...

* * *

I got home and nearly threw my bag straight on the kitchen table, as I always used to, before remembering and looking at the table first. Apparently the models that came to life do not approve of being crushed. Seeing nothing, I dropped my bag down and checked my phone. I had the usual notifications: a few Facebook updates, some YouTube notifications and a new prompt to play Colour Switch. But there was a new one too. My best friend, Chad, had dropped me a text asking if I wanted to meet up. I had nothing to do and managing a city of inch-tall models from the far future can be boring and tiring. I went upstairs, grabbed some clothes and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in the bathroom before heading out the rugby field near our school. It was about a 5 or 10 minute walk from my house and I arrived a fair while before chad did.

The field is boxed in by tall trees on all sides and when chad eventually arrived at the opening in the trees that served as an entrance to the field, he glanced around for me. As I was nowhere in sight, he got his phone out to call me and ask where I was. I chose that moment to hang upside down from a thick branch and dangle just in front of him. He jumped out of his skin in fright and I was lost in laughter for 5 minutes straight, much to his embarrassment. I eventually dropped down and we strolled on the field, just chatting and messing around. We were best friends after all, our friendship was practically based on us winding each other up. It was good to just hang out as mates again and forget all the stresses of managing advanced life forms secretly living in our homes. It was, quite literally, a breath of fresh air. For the first time in what seemed like forever, we could chat about the most random shit... video games, girls, TV... all the rubbish we used to chat about purely to waste time. We were having fun once again, until Chad reminded me of something.

"So, dude... It's your birthday tomorrow. Looking forward to it? You're gonna be 18! You can get drunk! But like, legally, now!" He laughed.

"Don't remind me..." Was all I could manage to groan.

"You sound less excited than me, mate. And I can't drink yet for another 6 months! Everything ok?"

"Yeah... Just worrying about tomorrow. I mean, we're obvious going to the pub for drinks in the night, but then who is going to be keeping an eye on the little guys?"

"Well your family is going with you to the pub, so you don't need to worry about them getting discovered while you're out."

"Its not that, dude. Its just that so much stuff seems to go on that I can't notice until someone tells me. Murders, plots, mysteriously appearing Necrons, and of course my missing Space Wolves. And those Dark Angels seem to keep appearing in bigger and bigger numbers. I'm starting to think that they're getting reinforcements from somewhere. And their armour... it seems dirtier than I'd imagine. Not like the noble Dark Angels I read about."

"Mate, they don't need babysitting. They'll be ok for a few hours. They are more than capable of looking after themselves. To be honest, maybe that the problem. Show them a bit more trust and give them some space. Let them sort their own problems out, their own way."

"Yeah... Good point, I guess." I sighed.

Elsewhere, the Farseer smirked. "Thank you for your co-operation, Chad..."

She sent a psychic message to her allies in the Eldar sector of the Underground City. "Proceed to phase 2."

* * *

 **The Next Day...**

The next day was like another, get up, get ready for another day of stress and boredom in college, and generally just sigh sadly at every little thing. At least I only had less than 5 more months there before I would be done with school, maybe moving on to University, which brought its own set of problems. I sighed again.

"Happy Birthday!" My parents screamed as they stuck their heads in the kitchen doorway, smiles beaming. My sister though just gave me an evil look and muttered "Woo... Go you..."

From her, that was the equivalent of a Nobel Prize! I muttered a "Thanks guys" back at them before continuing to chow down on my breakfast. School/college sucked normally, but on your birthday just emphasized the bullshit of it all. The morning continued on like any other, with the exception of a few presents before we left. I got a couple of new games, a DVD and a small tub of chocolate. It wasn't much, but I was grateful. I understood. Money was always tight this time of year. I sighed again.

* * *

 **A few hours later...**

School was done for the day, and it was a Friday, meaning that I had the freedom of the weekend to look forward to at least. There was that. Even the squad of guardsmen stowed in my bag seemed in a joyous mood that school was finished for another 2 days. We may be millennia apart, but if there is one thing people now and people of the future can agree on, its that school sucks. I went home as usual, to be greeted by my stepdad at the door, still smiling like earlier. What were these people on, Joy pills?!

"Heya, mate! How ya doing?" He grinned.

"Alright, I guess." I replied flatly.

"Fair enough. We're going to the pub to celebrate after dinner, but for now, you can try out your new games or watch your DVD!"

"Thanks dude." I groaned, trudging inside.

I went straight to my room and instead of turning my PlayStation on like normal, I just dropped my bag on the floor and slumped into my bed. For the first time in a while, I realized how exhausted I was. Maybe that's why I was so moody today. I was probably just absolutely knackered. Even with my eyes closed, I could sense the small figures on my bedside table vying for my attention. I ignored them and kept my eyes firmly shut. I could not be arsed for them right now. Before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Governor!" A young cadet jogged to keep up with Governor Anderson's long, powerful strides as he marched through the wide hallways of Command Post Alpha.

"Report, cadet." The Governor demanded, not altering his pace for the struggling cadet. He had places to be.

"Sir, we got a report from the interrogators. Some of the Bonesingers have been very talkative, but other subjects have sadly... expired."

"And? What have we discovered?"

"The Eldar have already handed over the Space Wolf prisoner to the Fallen, in secret. They've had him for several days now. But that was as far as their knowledge went. All their stories seem to match up."

"Shit. Ok, thank you for that report. I'll begin assembling a rescue team as soon as possible. There's no telling what that prisoner knows and we cannot allow Cypher to sink his claws into him. And we have to ensure that his rescue looks like an escape. We cannot be tied to this. Tell no-one."

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

I woke not long later from my family calling me down to dinner. Like every other mundane day, it was just us eating, asking each other how each other's day was, and generally complaining about it. At least my parents were smiling as they complained today. After dinner, I went up to my room to get changed for the night out. I threw on my black ripped jeans, my Hollywood Undead t-shirt, my red hoodie and leather waistcoat. As I laced up my Converse, I gave a stern instruction to all the little people camping in my room.

"Alright guys, I'm going out for a while. I don't know when I'm coming back, but I need you all on your best behavior while I'm gone, ok?"

There was a general motion of nods coming from the legions before me.

"Good. So that means no weapons, no shooting, no fighting. The house had best be in the _exact_ same state we left it in when we get back. Do that for me, and you can have your heavy weapons back. Understood?"

More nods. And a few wide grins and excited murmurs. Sometimes I swear that they were secretly Orks. I shivered at the thought, imagine if it had been _them_ that I collected before all this happened!

Down on the carpet, they were still whispering amongst themselves at the prospect of getting their bigger guns back. Since the last massive battle in my room, I had proposed that the Necrons may be acting like a large army of deadly Predators. After failed explanation and a couple of watched movies, they seemed to understand. They seemed to particularly enjoy Alien vs Predator in the aptly named movie. They all chanted loudly and excitedly at that points, and I swear I saw some betting going on. If I was correct and the Necrons only attacked because we had lots of weapons, then I made them hand in all their larger weaponry and hid it away. Since then, no Necron attack, though I was worried that they'd attack again while I was out and my men would be stuck with only small arms to defend themselves. But amongst all the muttering, I failed to notice the discreet conversation between Captain Westfield and his small squad, talking only in quick whispers, constantly watching those around them nervously.

* * *

"Those damned Eldar... They did this!" Tohr whispered to the group harshly. He was Captain Westfield's squad's heavy weapons expert and he had been sour ever since the giant had seized his 'Big Bertha.'

"I agree. They are planning something." Captain Westfield nodded.

"So what are we going to do about it, sir?" Cairn asked, his arms folded.

"Not sure yet... The way I have it, there's two possible ways they are trying to strike. They could be planning on doing something here, when Tom is away, or they could be doing something to him."

"Sir, we don't have the numbers to be spread across two areas of operations." Jon, the youngest of the group put in as quietly as he could manage.

"I know... We may need some help on this one..." the captain sighed.

"Sir! I thought the first rule of fight club was that you don't talk about fight club! This squad was supposed to be a secret!" Zarn, the group's marksman stated audibly, shocked.

"Oh, don't worry. The squad I hand picked are very hush-hush on matters such as this..." Came a voice from behind them. "And might I suggest less movie nights and more time training, Mr. Zarn?" Master Odien smirked.

"Sir!" Reaper squad saluted to him, still down in his wheelchair.

"Put your hands down dammit! We're trying to be discreet here!"

"Glad you agreed to help us, Master Odien." Captain Westfield smiled. "Your scouts will be of great service to us."

* * *

And so the plan was set in motion. Master Odien's hand-picked scouts would secretly join the giant, Tom, while Reaper squad would maintain a vigilant watch back at the Underground City. All they had to do was wait. Wait for the Eldar to make their move. To commit. To make a mistake. This was a dangerous game that they were playing. Only time could tell if the risks would be worthwhile.

* * *

 **Meanwhile...**

"So everything is going according to plan..." She smirked.

"Yes, Farseer. Exactly as you said it would."

"Perfect..." She purred. "Soon, the Mon-keigh will make their fatal mistake. They will reveal their betrayal and we shall have the opportunity to take this place for ourselves. This land expansion will be perfect for our future operations here. Everything is going to be so... perfect..."

* * *

 **Later...**

"Are you quite certain?" Cypher's voice whispered in his ear.

"Certain, my lord." He replied.

"Hmm... This presents us with a grand opportunity. Continue with your assignment for now. I will meditate on this. This could be the perfect cover for us to use in our plans." Cypher whispered back, and the marine could feel the mysterious man's grin through the vox-piece.

"Understood, my lord." Brother Leo tapped the small ear piece and the line went silent.

Shuffling forward from his prone position, he ensured his silenced sniper rifle was still set up as he liked it. Aiming down the sights, he watched as the unknowing Reaper squad infiltrated the Eldar Sector. They all lined up against the bone white walls of an imperial building that had been modified by the Eldar to suit their purposes. As the captain peeked around the corner and they made ready to dash to the next building, an Eldar Guardian patrolled behind them. They had no idea that within seconds, they would be discovered.

Brother Leo reached into his ammo belt behind him and selected a specialist round. He help the bolt in front of him for several seconds, examining it. Satisfied, he loaded it into the sniper rifle and slammed the firing chamber shut. He peered down the sights, and took his shot.

The Eldar Guardian was seconds away from rounding the corner and discovering the humans when he was launched backwards from an unseen force. His breastplate shattered and he lay there, groaning in pain as his body started to fizz. Reaper squad pushed on further into the sector, clueless about their guardian angel. Within seconds, there was no trace that the Eldar Guardian had ever existed. Brother Leo selected another of those specialist bolts from his belt and loaded that into the sniper rifle too.

'Acid bolts.' He thought. 'Filled with Tyranid bile. Leaves no trace of the victim behind. Not even blood. Perfect for infiltration missions.'

He watched as Reaper squad continued to advance deeper into the hornet's nest until they passed out of his zone of fire. He was readying himself to move on to the next vantage point when he noticed something down his sights. Through a window, he could spy the wicked Farseer, sat down crosslegged in her room. She appeared to be talking to someone unseen. Before he moved on, conscious that Reaper squad was vulnerable without his overwatch fire, he made a decision. He checked that the acid bolt was still in the firing chamber and adjusted his sights for the range of the shot. He placed the crosshairs over the Farseer's heart.

"I could kill you right now with this shot, vile witch..." He muttered to himself. He had not forget that she had attempted to read his mind back at the council meeting where she was first introduced. "I will have my revenge..."

* * *

Captain Westfield held up his fist, signaling for Reaper squad to halt.

"Sir?" Cairn questioned, quietly.

"Something's wrong." He replied in a hushed whispered.

"I don't understand, sir."

"Listen. You hear that?"

"Hear what, sir?"

"Exactly. It completely silent. Not even a trace of activity. Where is everyone? Particularly any guards or patrols. This place is a ghost town."

"But isn't no guards a good thing?" Jon added.

"No. Its never a good thing..." Captain Westfield replied, a hint of nerves creeping into his voice. "Everyone keep your eyes up. Be on guard for anything. Something is definitely off here..."

* * *

 **The Pub...**

For the first time in a while, I smiled genuinely. I was fairly drunk, but denying it (of course) and surrounded by friends and family. I'd gotten a few more gifts off my family, but most just opted for the easy option and bought me a drink. My family were all hanging out with each other and catching up, while me and my friends sat in the corner, chatting excitedly to each other. Chad was there, but so was Hannah, Sean, Beth, Callum, Charlee and surprisingly, my ex. Only a few of us could drink, but we bought each other rounds and bought non-alcoholic drinks for those too young. Being a fan of whiskey, my friends and family kept the little glasses coming, sometimes singles and sometimes doubles. I was still standing but there were several glasses on the table at this point, and I wasn't going to last much longer. The night was still young as it was only 10pm. But then I saw something that I blamed on the drink for several seconds before I rubbed my eyes and realized that I was seeing the real thing. Across the room, I could see little shapes making their way across the top of the bar, sliding around the bottles of alcohol.

'Great. As if these guys aren't hard enough to deal with normally. Now I have to deal with them in public! While drunk!'

I sighed again.


End file.
